Our Time
by PyroQueenOfFire
Summary: With two Horsemen left, and demons to kill, Bobby's estranged daughter wants Dean to understand he's NOT really dead inside...but can she make him see it? Can Dean actually have something without feeling like he wants it because he 'should?; Dean/OC
1. Dead Inside

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Okay, I may or may not take down my other story with Grace in it because this came to me and I can't stop where it's going.**

**This is dedicated to all of my faithful subscribers: monique122, Brandofheroin-x, Maiqu, amy marie 45, Deangirl93, rosecoloredskies, superimpala, and all the others that I know are out there but don't always review—I appreciated all of you **_**so**_** much!**

**This is also dedicated to Sequoya.**

**I think that we can **_**all**_** agree that Dean Winchester deserves to know love, but with everything he's gone through, he isn't sure what it is, but he knows deep down he needs it.**

**He loved Cassie once, sure, but I don't believe he was ever **_**actually**_** in love with Jo, but now he misses her so much, and the missed opportunity that he could have taken but always decided not to because he loved her like a sister, and he just…that man deserves to be loved unconditionally, and given a chance to let someone in—a chance to be **_**let**_** in, for who he is…**

**Expect no love triangle between Dean's love interest and him, but expect there to also be someone for Sammy because I'm a Dean/Cas Girl, but I love my Sammy too.**

**This is just kind of what I **_**wish**_** would happen.**

**WARNINGS: Language, Controversial Topics, Dark Themes, Sex, Violence, Blood**

**ENJOY!**

****

"_Hunger doesn't just come from the body…it also comes from the soul." Famine explained to Dean._

_Dean smirked a little. "Sorry, but it doesn't seem to be coming from mine."_

"_Yes…I noticed that." Famine said with a nod, watching as Dean struggled against the two demons holding him there to no avail. "Have you wondered why that is? Why you could even walk in my presence?"_

"_I'd like to think it's because of my strength of character." Dean joked—it was normal for him to be a smart-ass in these kinds of situations._

"_I disagree." Famine told him, wheeling closer to him and touching his abdomen, Dean letting out a grunt of pain. "Yes…I see…" Famine chuckled a little and pulled his hand away. "That's one deep, dark, __**nothing**__, you've got there, Dean. Can't fill it, can you? Not with food, or drink—not even with sex."_

_Dean shot him a look as Famine laughed. "Ah, you're so full of crap."_

"_You can smirk, and joke, and lie to your brother—lie to yourself—but __**not**__ to me!" Famine told him strongly. "I can see inside you, Dean. I can see how broken you are. How defeated—you can't win. You know it, but you just keep fighting—just…keep going through the motions. You're not hungry, Dean, because __**inside**__…you're already __**dead**__."_

Dean ran his calloused hand over his tired eyes, trying to get the words to leave him alone. He'd been feeling like those words had been true for a long while, and having Famine point it out was almost more than Dean could take on his own. Whether he wanted someone to help share his burden with him or not, Dean knew that he had to focus: there were already two Horsemen down, and one more to go.

Besides, Dean had seen the kind of strength that Sam could have with demon blood in his system up close and personal, and he was scared. He was scared of his own brother, and of this deep, dark prophecy that they were in a sense, going to turn on each other…that Dean was going to have to kill Sam. Dean couldn't bear to think on it any longer, and though Castiel looked at him with despair that he couldn't help to take his pain away, he let Dean go.

Sam was still trying to get himself completely regained, all the demon blood drained from his system, and yet even _he_ didn't head out after Dean. He knew that Dean was having a hard time right then, and he didn't want to push him…didn't want to make Dean say anything. This last hunt had broken both of them, and Sam was feeling his own bit of self-loathing for caving to the demon blood…no matter _how much_ it helped in the end to defeat Famine.

"He needs someone." Castiel said in the heavy silence hanging over the room.

Sam nodded and looked up at the angel. "It would be best if _you_ went, I think."

"I'm not…versed in comfort." Castiel explained, getting a smile out of the youngest Winchester.

"Yeah, but you're also not the one that broke today, Cas." Sam told him, shaking his head sadly. "I let them win…I gave in and I proved that I'm not this—I proved to Dean that he can't save me from my fate."

Castiel wanted to speak up, but he knew that he couldn't do anything to help Sam here, so he kept his mouth shut on the subject. He almost hated it as much as Dean to see Sam the way that he had been—to hear his friend's cries for help as he tried to get rid of the demon blood in his system. There was so much to talk about that none of them were going to address…that none of them could find the words to make better.

"Go to him…I have things to attend to." Castiel explained, and before Sam could protest, Castiel was no longer in the motel room.

Sam nodded and heaved a sigh, getting up slowly and deciding that it wasn't the time for Dean to be alone. So he grabbed his jacket and headed to the nearest bar, catching Dean looking at the alcohol, untouched in his bar glass. Dean nodded slowly when Sam sat down next to him and they both found it oddly calming that they could sit down next to each other with no words and not feel awkward. There were things they had to get past, but one thing was absolutely certain: they both still had each other's backs—no matter what.

**

Bobby wheeled himself over to his tower of books and opened one up, searching through it to try and figure out where to go from there. He had already had to endure so many casualties, and there were still two Horsemen left to find…two Horsemen that would usher in Lucifer's big plan. That set Bobby to thinking about things he'd never bring up with Sam and Dean, but things he'd been thinking about nonetheless.

What if _Dean_ simply gave in and let Michael in? With Michael in his _true_ vessel, that meant that Lucifer would be absolutely _no_ match for him…it meant that the world would be saved from his terror. At the same time, letting the angels in meant that there would most _definitely_ be fighting, no matter what…that meant a half torched planet. Still…what if Sam _didn't_ let Lucifer in? What if all of this was just up to Dean?

A knock on the door made Bobby look up from his book and break off his thoughts, and he heaved a heavy sigh. He wheeled himself over to the door and opened it up, starting to say a response that some grumpy old man would say but he stopped. She was the spitting image of her mother and he knew why she was there…he knew that she was there because it was her place to be there.

The young woman had dark brown hair and beautiful warm eyes, and she smiled at him a little, both of them at a loss for words. It wasn't like he didn't know who she was—it wasn't like they'd never met—it was just that there she was…standing _right in front of him_. She ran her fingers through her hair nervously and blew her bangs out of her face, motioning to the interior of the house awkwardly.

"You gonna let me in?" She asked him.

Bobby stopped looking her over and nodded. "Right, yes—come in, Grace."

"Thanks." She said with a nod, coming into the house and shutting the door behind her. "So what happened to you, Dad?"

"Demon thing." Bobby said waving off the accident that put him in the wheelchair like it was nothing. "What brings you here, Gracie?"

She smiled sadly at the way he used the nickname he used to use for her when she was a little girl and she just nodded. He didn't want to talk about it and she understood that, so it was best to just get right to the point. This wasn't the life he had wanted for her, but it was the life she'd chosen, and it was finally time for her to get in the game.

"I know about it all, Dad." Grace explained with a soft shrug. "I heard about the seals, and Lucifer rising—I came to help."

Bobby nodded slowly. "So, uh…you took this path, then?"

"I couldn't _not_, Dad…not after what happened to Mom." Gracie admitted and then she swallowed. "I'm sorry I haven't kept in touch, I just…I couldn't."

"It's all right, Gracie, I get it—I thought you were with a nice family that would keep you out of this mess, honestly." Bobby said, trying hard not to talk about her mother—it was still _far_ too painful for him.

Grace shrugged a little again, taking off her jacket. "Yeah…so…where do we start?"

"I have some books in the other room." Bobby offered pointing the way.

Grace smiled and nodded at him, looking around the house and following him into the other room, laughing softly about the piles of books. He was _definitely_ trying to keep himself busy, and Grace admired that. She actually admired quite a _lot_ about her father, but she just couldn't look at him the same way after everything that had happened in their past. At the same time, now was _not_ the time to dwell on anything negative—it was the time for action…the time to stop Lucifer.

"So…the Angel of Death…anyone seen it around?" Grace asked as she picked up one of the large spell books.

Bobby looked at her. "How do you know about all of this, Gracie?"

Grace looked up at him and they made eye contact. "Lucifer."

**

When Bobby had called them, Sam and Dean headed straight over to his house to make sure that everything was all right. Bobby hadn't shared any specific details with them, but he had said it was important, and he had _never_ steered the boys wrong before. So they parked in front of his house and knocked on the door, both a little surprised to see the beautiful Grace open it and smile at them.

"You must be Sam and Dean Winchester." Grace told them with a smile, opening the door up a little wider than before. "It's nice to meet you—he's in there with all of the books."

Sam nodded and then held out his hand. "And you are?"

"Oh, sorry, that was rude of me—I'm Grace…Grace Singer." She explained, shaking Sam's hand as his and Dean's eyes widened at the realization. "I'm his daughter."

"Will you stop socializing like a bunch of girls and get in here?" Bobby called from the other room.

Grace laughed and rolled her eyes. "Way to be polite, Dad!"

"This is the Apocalypse, Gracie—move it!" Bobby replied, but the three of them heard the fondness in his voice.

Neither Sam nor Dean had _ever_ heard Bobby talk about his daughter, but here she was and if Bobby trusted her, then so did they. They headed into the room after Grace, who went back to the large book she'd been flipping through, and Dean caught her biting on the end of her ballpoint pin as she read. For a fleeting moment he found her endearing, but his past has taught him that getting involved and attached was a bad idea and besides…he thought he was dead inside just as Famine had said.

"So what's the important news, Bobby?" Sam asked, not really giving Grace any meaningful second glances.

Bobby took a deep breath. "Grace here has had a run-in with Lucifer."

"Way to make me sound suspicious." Grace told him, glancing up at her father and noticing the look-over Dean was giving her out of the corner of her eye. "I've been hunting for a while, under an alias, and a couple of weeks ago, Lucifer found me and he explained all sorts of things to me—turns out I have the potential to be a vessel."

"His meat suit _was_ starting to look a little ripe." Dean admitted with a nod. "So…why would he pick you?"

Grace looked at Dean and they made eye contact for the first time and Grace felt pain swell up inside of her. She'd always been pretty good at reading people, and she knew a broken man when she saw one—he was in pain…he was in a _lot_ of pain. Dean caught the look on her face as she smiled sadly and he didn't want her pity—he didn't _need_ it, and so he just looked away from her eyes to a spot on her cheek instead…it was less meaningful and less intense.

"He said I wasn't a large enough part of the fold—he said once I understood what was going on, I'd be able to make an informed decision." Grace explained and shook her head, biting her lip. "I'll give Lucifer one thing—he's _incredibly_ honest…but the thing was I didn't feel for him enough to let him in."

Sam made a face. "You felt for him at all?"

"Come on—I don't condone _anything_ that he has done or that he is _doing_, but the guy was betrayed _by_ his family and he _betrayed_ his family. He's alone, and he has legitimate reasons to feel the way he feels, but I don't believe in what he's doing. I don't believe in what the angels have put you two through."

"Yeah." Dean scoffed softly, wishing it hadn't come out rude, but she didn't _know_ him or Sam—she didn't have the right to say it.

Grace glanced at Dean and noticed him looking at the floor. "Look, I don't know the two of you, and I don't presume to, but I _do_ think that this whole mess can be avoided…or at least fixed in our favor."

"All right…what do you have?" Sam asked her.

Dean just glanced at his brother and then at the look Bobby was giving him and he excused himself for some fresh air. He needed to be out on his own and he needed to keep himself in check so he didn't blow it again. Eventually he'd have to apologize to Grace, he knew that, but at the same time, that just wasn't one of Dean's strong suits. Apologizing had _never_ come easy to him…but she didn't understand that, and she was honestly just trying to help and he felt bad for how he'd said what he'd said. It wasn't much that he'd actually said, but it was how he'd said it.

"Wanna take a drive?" Grace asked Dean.

He looked up at her as she came over to him and shrugged, pulling her jacket on and tossing her hair over her shoulders. It had a way of shining in the sunlight and Dean wanted to smile but he just couldn't find it in him to do that. Dean didn't understand why she was being so friendly to him when he'd been so rude—when she didn't know him. What made her want to befriend him? What made her think she could trust the man that broke the first seal? Trust the man who couldn't feel?

"You don't have to talk, and I know I don't know you, but…there's a place I know that could potentially make you feel better." Grace told him.

Dean just nodded and tossed her his keys, smiling a little at the catch she made and the way her eyes lit up even in their confusion. He didn't know why he was even trusting her with his baby, but he didn't really want to drive, and she seemed to know where she was going. She just smiled and nodded at him as he walked towards his car and got into the passenger seat, and he glanced at her as she put the key in the ignition.

"You sure?" She asked him, her hand paused.

Dean nodded at her. "Yeah…just drive, Grace."

**Note: That is the first chapter, and I hope you don't mind its length—it's about how long all of the chapters are going to be, with longer ones here and there. Feedback is always appreciated!**


	2. A Friend When You Need One

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**This story is just kind of flowing out of my fingers, so expect updates from it soon.**

**I appreciate each and every one of you, and I hope you're enjoying it!**

**There will be flashbacks and more into Grace's past, but that comes later…let me build her up.**

**=P**

**WARNINGS: Language, Controversial Topics, Dark Themes, Sex, Violence, Blood**

**ENJOY!**

****

Grace bit her lip as Dean chuckled, a little surprised at how well she handled the car and still a little weary of her driving. She wasn't incredibly used to driving, but she wasn't doing terribly and that was all that really mattered to Dean and they both knew it—she wasn't going to crash his baby, and that was what he deemed most important. Dean smiled a little and nodded as she eased off of the gas pedal, and then he reached over to the steering wheel and rested his hand on hers, both of them jumping a little bit.

He was just trying to help her and yet neither of them had expected the gesture and Dean feared for his life for a split second, but Grace was already composed. The car was back in her control and Dean's hand held hers firmly and softly, helping her to ease up on the gripping a little and then they made brief eye contact before Grace's eyes were back on the road. Grace smiled a little and Dean caught it, so he let go of her hand and he put it in his lap, Grace focused on driving.

They parked soon at the edge of a forest, and Dean made a face but he followed her out of the car. Dean wasn't quite sure why of all places Grace would have brought him to a forest, but he was willing to find out. Still, he felt like he was missing part of his old self and though not able to actually get that part of him back, he knew he had to do something—make a cheeky remark or something.

"You're not going to shank me and take off are you?" Dean asked her and caught his keys when she tossed them back as she rolled her eyes at him.

She pointed to the path. "Just walk, Dean."

"All right, but I warn you now: something jumps out, I'm using you as a shield." Dean told her, and he was happy to know that she knew he was kidding when she laughed.

"I think that's fair since I dragged you here." She replied nodding.

She started to walk down the path and Dean followed her, catching up with her and taking long strides next to her. They both felt peaceful in the silence, birds chirping around them, some squirrels scurrying around the trunks of the trees, and suddenly Grace laughed. The sound was surprisingly what Dean had been missing lately, and he looked at her, wishing he knew what to say—what to do. What was going on here? What was wrong with him?

"Am I the only one who felt for just a second that this was like some bad horror movie?" Grace asked him.

Dean laughed a little. "You're kind of quirky, I think."

"It's right up here." Grace said, smiling at him and shrugging a little.

Grace had a feeling that Dean just needed a chance to think things over and to be able to feel like not everything was against him and lead him to a clearing. There was a lake and the sun was glinting off of it, making him feel a bit of calm wash over him and he looked out at the sky. The sun was high in the sky and it was clear, a few white clouds painting the sky and Grace sat down on the ground.

She moved the hair away from her mouth as it blew across her face in the breeze, a few strands getting stuck in her chapstick as she watched Dean. He closed his eyes and felt the breeze on his skin, small goose bumps being left in the wake of the wind. Honestly he felt pretty good just standing there and then he remembered that Grace had brought him here—that she had brought him here to unwind…did he really seem _that_ tense to her?

"Why are you doing this?" He asked her.

Grace looked up at him. "You looked like you needed it."

"So what, you're just some nice person?" He asked again, knowing his cynicism was seeping through. "I just…"

"I get it." Grace said when he trailed off, and she shrugged at him. "Look, I just think that right now we all need someone we can count on. I'm looking for your trust, you just looked like you needed to get out and collect yourself and I figured you could do it here."

Dean nodded and then it all sank in. "How long have you been here?"

Grace bit her lip at the question and she just shrugged softly—she knew it was a simple question, but she wasn't sure about it either. She'd been around looking out for Bobby for a while now she just hadn't been able to find a way to explain that. Dean just kept looking at her, thinking there was a way that he could get her to open up, but she had walls up, and he had a feeling it wasn't that easy.

"Thank you for looking after my Dad." Grace told him, not answering his question. "I'm going to let you stay here and have a few moments to yourself, and I'm going to go and wait by your car—I promise I can get there in one piece without the hero."

Dean just smiled at her and nodded, shaking his head a little in the silence because she had pointed at _him_ when she'd said 'hero'. These days Dean didn't actually _feel_ like a hero and as nice as it was that Grace thought he was one—even if it was just in joke—he didn't think he deserved it. Grace smiled sadly at him as she glanced at him one last time and she headed for the Impala: the Winchesters were good men and she knew it…she just didn't know how to get _them_ to.

**

"So…she's sweet." Sam said motioning towards the door Grace had left through.

Bobby nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"I know I shouldn't even get involved but…what brings her here?" Sam asked him.

"You heard her—she's part of this now." Bobby told him.

Sam nodded and then took a breath—he was used to the men around him shutting off their emotional centers. He knew Bobby wanted to talk about it, but he didn't know how…he didn't know how because the subject of her hurt him. Bobby wasn't sure how he was going to deal with this because he loved his little girl—he loved her and he didn't want her to be a part of this.

Sam ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm worried about her going out on her own."

"So am I," Bobby admitted, "but she's a hunter—you heard her—if she wants this life, then I can't stop her."

"But you're her father." Sam told him, trying to be on his side, but knowing what Bobby knew—it was Grace's life and she was the only one in control of it.

Bobby handed Sam a book. "Why don't we talk about something more important—like maybe what happened the other day?"

Sam looked at Bobby and then took the book from him, looking at the book instead of in Bobby's eyes. Bobby was turning on his fatherly side in order to get Sam to open up to him and as much as Sam wanted to share how he was feeling he felt ashamed. He'd let _demons_ get the better of him and he couldn't just come back from that…he'd made a huge mistake and he didn't just get to be forgiven for that.

"Come on, Boy—spill it." Bobby told him, looking at him and fixing his baseball cap.

Sam took a breath and looked at the book as he spoke. "I just…I made a mistake, Bobby. I got carried away by this overwhelming need to feed and I…I made the wrong decision."

"So you're just going to sit around and mope about it?" Bobby asked him. "Why? You could be out there redeeming yourself right now."

"How do I do that, Bobby?" Sam asked him, looking up at him. "How do I just try and move on from what I've done? I felt the power, Bobby—the rush of it—I _like_ feeling that powerful."

Bobby nodded and Sam noticed the pain cross across his irises—he was worried about Sam and Sam was glad to have him on his side. Sam knew that no matter what he did, Bobby looked at him like a son and he was going to try and protect him the best he could. There were times that even _Bobby_ wanted to just lay down and die, but as long as they had someone to stand by them and let them know how much they needed each other, they would never really be alone.

"Then you need to find a way to feel that powerful _without_ the blood." Bobby told him.

Sam looked at him. "How do I do that?"

"_I_ can't answer that one for you, Sam." Bobby said, resting his hand on Sam's shoulder and running his thumb along it, squeezing it reassuringly. "You have to figure that one out on your own, but I'm by your side, all right?"

"Thanks, Bobby." Sam smiled sadly and then he looked back at the book and then back up at Bobby as he wheeled over to the other side of the room.

Bobby looked so down-hearted, but if there was one thing about Bobby that Sam was used to, it was that little glimmer of hope. No matter what happened to them—no matter what was said—Bobby always knew that somewhere out there, there was something worthwhile to hold onto. If he didn't believe that, then he wouldn't have a leg to stand on, and he knew that he was going to have to be the strong one right now…there was just no other choice in the matter.

"They took off." Bobby said, as he looked out the window.

Sam looked up again. "Yeah? Where do you think they went?"

"I don't know, but…I trust she's safe." Bobby told Sam, nodding and smiling a little. "Besides…Dean needs a friend right now."

**

Grace rested her elbow on the door of the Impala and glanced at Dean as hr drove them back to Bobby's, her head on her hand. There were so many things she wanted to say, and yet she didn't want to push her boundaries anymore than she already had. She was already trying to weasel her way into his life more than she should, and it wasn't her place…she needed to back off.

"What?" Dean asked her, glancing at her and then back to the road and he sighed a little when she just shook her head and looked out her window. "Come on…I was kind of enjoying the way you carried yourself—your forwardness."

Grace smiled a little and looked at him. "Yeah? I'm not pushing my boundaries here?"

"Maybe a little," Dean told her with a shrug and then he nodded a little, "but honestly I'm not upset about it."

"Do you believe?" Grace asked him, nodding when he gave her a look, pure confusion on his face. "I mean do you truly and honestly believe?"

Dean licked his lips and then pursed them together, swallowing and taking a deep breath through his nose. There were a lot of ways to answer that question, but he didn't think he knew her well enough to indulge himself to a perfect stranger. Bobby's daughter or not, he wasn't sure yet if he trusted her…he was intrigued by her, and he _genuinely_ enjoyed her company, but he just didn't feel like he could spill all of his darkest secrets and feelings to her.

"I believe in what I see." He told her with a nod.

Grace nodded, understanding the answer. "It's okay, I didn't mean to pry…for the record though? I believe in destiny, but I believe you have the ability to change it—to shape it."

"Doesn't that defeat the _entire_ purpose of destiny?" Dean asked her, smiling a little and raising his eyebrows at her.

"I don't think so." Grace told him, laughing softly. "I think that even though the angels have been pushing for this to all happen and unfold, you and Sam have free will—we _all _do. I don't believe the decisions that we make are leading us down a path to some inevitable decision that they know we're going to make."

Dean nodded slowly and kept his eyes on the road, not looking at her again all the way to Bobby's. They both headed up to the house and Grace opened up the door, walking right into the other room and smiling at Bobby when he looked up. Sam threw a smile their way and then looked at Dean, who looked a little more peaceful, but still incredibly upset and Sam wondered where Grace and Dean had gone and if they'd actually been together.

He watched as Grace went over to Bobby and took her jacket off, draping it over her chair and sitting down next to him. Suddenly all of her attention was on her father and information that he had, and Sam decided to let Dean in on the hunt that he had found with Bobby's help. Bobby was filling Grace in and since Dean liked to get lost in hunts, Sam figured that this would be a good thing for him…even _after_ the demon blood incident.

"What kind of demon? Do you know?" Grace asked Bobby.

Dean ran his hand down his face. "This looks more like Zachariah to me."

"That's what I was thinking." Bobby nodded in agreement, and Grace stood up.

"Wait a minute," Grace said shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head, "who is Zachariah?"

Sam looked at her. "He's an angel."

Grace nodded and then made a face like she should know that and took a deep breath. Bobby knew what she was going to say before she said it and he shook his head, but he couldn't stop her—she had just as much right to go on this hunt as Sam and Dean did. Neither boys wanted her to get involved with Zachariah either, but she was determined to do this and she headed outside, pulling her jacket back on.

"Don't let anything happen to her." Bobby said, trying to wet his dry mouth.

Dean ran his hand down his face and nodded. "I promise you, Bobby."

**Note: I hope you guys like where this is going as much as I do, and if not, always feel free to leave your opinions. Feedback is always appreciated!**


	3. Its Just a Bandaid

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Your feedback is so amazing and I'm glad you guys are loving where this is going, and I'm glad you like Grace—that was the point.**

**This next chapter has a little fluff in it, but still emotions, and a new character.**

**WARNINGS: Language, Controversial Topics, Dark Themes, Sex, Violence, Blood**

**ENJOY!**

****

"Do you even know how to shoot a gun?" Dean asked as he moved the gun out of Grace's way as they got ready to go, still outside of Bobby's house.

Grace made a face. "Dean, I'm a _hunter_…I _know_ how to shoot a gun."

"I just want to make sure since I'm sending you out into the field." Dean told her and pointed to the car. "Hop in and we'll head to go and practice."

"Fine—if that's how I have to prove to you that I'm good at this, then so be it." She told him, and rolling her eyes, got into the car.

Sam chuckled as Grace got into the backseat and shook his head. "Way to make friends."

"This isn't about making friends." Dean replied shrugging.

Sam nodded as Dean got into the driver's seat, and he got into the passenger side and they drove to a motel, Dean surprised Grace had so little things. She had one duffle that apparently held everything she needed, and part of him was impressed—she wasn't materialistic like he thought she'd be upon first glance. It was probably her outfit, but maybe it was just that Dean's kind of women were always kind of stuck-up…or slutty, one or the other…sometimes both.

Grace was wearing nice jeans, flats—but not tennis shoes—and a cotton blouse under her rather stylish jacket that still served its purpose. She pulled back her hair when they got to the motel, pushing her bangs out of her face as they fell into her eyes and then she paused and looked around before tossing her duffle on the couch. Sam raised his eyebrows at her and wondered what she was thinking, and then Dean pointed to the bed.

"Sam and I will flip for the couch, Grace." Dean explained, knowing that if they got stuck there for a few days, it was best to let the girl have the bed—hunter or not.

Grace shrugged and shook her head. "No, its fine—I'm the tag-along, so I'll take the couch and you guys can have the beds. So…when do I get to prove I'm not your average girl and I know how to handle myself?"

"Now." Dean told her chuckling and nodding, tossing his duffle onto the bed next to the window.

Grace nodded at him and then she made sure her cell phone was on 'vibrate' before she slid it back into her pocket and put on some chap stick, Sam heading out past her. The three of them drove to a nice clearing with a fence, and Dean pulled a couple targets out of the trunk under the extra weapons—they never knew when they'd need to train someone to keep them safe. Once they were all ready to start shooting, Dean told Grace to show them what she had, so she just smiled and nodded. Neither Sam nor Dean thought they'd be completely blown away by what happened next but they were—she was a natural…and she was a better shot than Dean was.

"Wow." Sam breathed when she was done. "Just…wow."

Dean walked over to her as she turned around to look at them and she smiled at the looks on their faces. She wasn't the most outgoing person that there was in some situations, but Grace Singer knew how to take care of herself—knew how to aim. In fact Dean was so impressed that though he resisted the urge at first, he took a deep breath and he looked from the target to Grace, deciding to spit it out.

"Show me how you did that?" He asked her.

Grace grinned and nodded. "I'd be happy to."

"What's the technique?" Dean asked her, cocking his gun.

Grace smiled and went up behind him, reminding Sam of a skilled man putting the moves on a girl he liked. Her hand wrapped around Dean's and she positioned his arm, both of them surprised that it didn't feel awkward in the slightest. She was just showing him how she did what she did, and Dean was willing to learn, Sam smiling at them because their bodies seemed to fit together seamlessly even though Grace was pressed up against Dean's back practically, and she was smaller than him.

"Now picture the target as something that you want—hitting the bulls-eye means getting everything…everything you're missing…everything you need…you _need_ to hit the bulls-eye…do you feel that?" Grace asked him.

Dean swallowed, realizing he was hanging on her every word—he _believed_ her every word. In fact as Dean pulled the trigger he honestly believed that hitting the bulls-eye would make everything better and when it didn't, he was a little disappointed, but he knew that what she had told him had worked. He tried the technique without the warmth of her body a few more times and found that his percentage had gone up. He was great before, but now he was even better.

"You shoot like a girl." Dean managed, and he smirked a little when Grace laughed.

She shrugged and pushed her bangs out of her face again. "I'm taking that as a compliment. Shooting is really the only thing I'm good at. I'm not the strongest or the fastest, my Latin is shaky at best…but I'm a natural at this."

"You really are." Sam agreed, and then he pointed to the car. "She proved she was ready, so we should head to the bar…talk to the victim's boyfriend."

"Sounds good." Dean replied, pocketing his gun in his jean's waistband. "You up for it? Your persuasion skills intact, Grace?"

She smiled at Dean. "I guess we'll have to see, won't we?"

**

"Where is Grace?" Castiel asked Bobby.

Bobby jumped at the sound and then shook his head at the angel—no matter how used to Castiel they were, him just popping in and out was something no one was used to yet. Castiel watched as Bobby wheeled over to him, looking up at him and Castiel realized he should have been more tactful, but this was important. He had information that Bobby needed, but he needed to talk to Grace, and for some reason he couldn't sense her.

"Why can't you sense her?" Bobby asked him.

Castiel shook his head. "I do not know, but it is not a good sign."

"I was afraid that you'd say that." Bobby told him nodding. "She headed out with Sam and Dean to hunt down Zachariah—well to see if he was _behind_ the hunt that I found. I'll give you all the information I have on it and you can find them…I'm kind of stuck here."

Bobby hated admitting it but it was true—while he was in his wheelchair, Bobby couldn't just move whenever he felt like it. He had to wait for other people to come and pick him up and it made him feel weak—made him feel useless. Now he felt even worse, but it was because Grace was potentially in trouble and as estranged as they were, he wanted to keep her safe…he was her father, after all.

"Tell me what's wrong first." Bobby told Castiel, holding the information to himself.

Castiel nodded because he understood. "Word around is that Lucifer went to Grace because he thinks she can withstand him…he thinks that Grace is strong enough to harbor him, and that he can manipulate Sam that way. What do you know about your daughter?"

"Why would Lucifer think that?" Bobby asked Castiel instead.

It didn't make sense to either of them that Grace could be some amazingly powerful vessel. There had to be a reason…maybe this was a trap. Lucifer would go to _any_ lengths to get to Sam, but was this really the way? How would _that_ help him? To be in _Grace_? If he needed Sam and he needed him now, there were better ways to go around getting to him emotionally than by inhabiting Grace.

"I do not know—that is why I need to find her." Castiel explained. "I will come back with the information that I get."

Bobby nodded at him. "All right…give me your cell phone and I'll put her number in there for you."

"That would be ideal." Castiel agreed, looking at Bobby and nodding as he took the papers. "It's an easier idea then getting the jump on her."

"Yeah, I certainly think so." Bobby told Castiel, chuckling a little. "You know as much as Sam and Dean are rubbing off on you, you need to relax a little more, Cas."

Castiel simply nodded and then he looked over Bobby's research, Bobby wheeling into the other room as Castiel disappeared. Bobby got himself a drink and took a deep breath, hoping that Grace was going to be all right. He knew he could call her, but he also didn't know how Grace would take him checking up on her.

On the one hand he was just making sure she was safe and he was her father, but on the other hand he'd been absent most of her life. Grace was used to doing things on her own and Bobby didn't know if she'd be flattered or offended if he called her to check up on her. Then again he could call one of the boys—they'd let him know how Grace was doing and then Bobby wouldn't have to worry…so what was he going to do?

**

When they got to the bar, Dean and Sam found themselves impressed again as Grace struck up a rather casual conversation with the man. She seemed to understand that he was in pain, and she knew how to deal with it and go about it without bombarding him with questions, and Sam knew she had it under control. So instead he just sat at the other end and ordered a beer, one of the other bartenders on duty handing it to him and setting her sights on Dean.

Sam was used to that—Dean always seemed to get the attention, even though they were both just as attractive upon first glance. It was the air about him…it was the fact that you could tell by looking that Dean was in control…that he was ready for engagement. On the other end there was Sam…Sam who had a habit of making himself seem incredibly closed off…he was much less approachable.

"So what'll you have?" The bartender asked Dean.

Dean looked at away from Grace and to the bartender, smiling at her. "Just a beer is good, thanks—the best one you have."

"Coming right up." She told him, noticing how he'd ordered and then looked back at Grace without hesitation.

"It's gotta be hard to go on without her." Grace told Alex Frost, Emma Tweed's boyfriend.

Emma Tweed had disappeared—there was no actual death, no body…just her spouting off strange things about angels and then disappearing. No one knew where she was, and Alex was pretty devastated without her, but he liked being able to get it all off of his chest to someone willing to listen. In fact Grace just seemed like that kind of person—the nice person who wanted to listen, but at the same time was a stranger so…how did you just let go and trust them when you didn't know them?

"It is." Alex agreed with a nod.

Grace looked at her beer. "I, uh…I hope you find her…I bet she wishes you were with her."

"I'd think that if _that_ were the case, she'd have taken me with her." Alex told her, shaking his head as Dean chugged some beer and kept his eyes fixed on Grace.

"Two shots of the strongest liquor you have." A blonde said, slumping down on the stool next to Sam and looking at him as he glanced at her and offered her a 'hello-in-passing' smile. "You ever just have one of those days?"

Sam laughed lightly and nodded. "Yeah, I understand. That bad?"

"I own a lesser known record label." She explained to him, shaking her head. "One of my bands is driving me up the walls—I'm starting to wonder _why_ I signed them in the first place. My feet are _killing_ me!"

Sam watched as the woman pushed off her heels and shed her jacket, putting the jacket on her lap before tussling her blonde hair and downing the shots. Then she turned to Sam and she held her hand out, Sam smiling at her and grasping it, surprised at her soft skin. She smiled back at him, captivated for a moment by his beautiful brown eyes, and then she shook his hand firmly.

"Miranda Harver." She said as the bartender refilled her shots.

Sam nodded and set his beer down with his other hand. "Sam Winchester."

"Nice to meet you, Sam." Miranda admitted with a nod. "So what brings _you_ here? I'm sure you didn't wanna _actually_ hear about _my_ problems."

"I'm here because my brother and I experienced some death in the family recently and I needed to kind of meditate, I guess." Sam told her with a shrug.

Part of it was true, but the other part of it was just Sam trying to keep a cover, and he was good at that. He _did_ need to take some time out to think some things over, but he knew that no matter what happened, he was going to need to get over it. There was an apocalypse happening as they sat there in the bar and what if Sam strayed again? What if he was too weak to refuse demon blood again?

"I apologize." Miranda told him, pushing one of her shots towards him. "I lost my Mom a few years ago…its hard…but it gets better."

Sam smiled at her. "I'm glad to have met you, Miranda."

"You too, Sam." Miranda told him, downing her shot and smiling when Sam downed the other one. "Wanna play a game of pool?"

Sam decided to take her up on the offer, and Dean glanced over when he saw the movement out of the corner of his eye, smiling a little—Sam deserved a little fun. Besides, the blonde was incredibly attractive, and Dean jumped a little when he heard Grace's voice. She sat down next to him and rested her hand on his knee to get his attention, pulling it away when Dean jumped. Grace thought it was her touching him that was making him jumpy and she blushed…she didn't want to bring him discomfort.

"Alex mentioned the name Zachariah…so you were right. He also mentioned that she'd been talking to an angel named Thea…mean anything to you?" Grace asked him.

Dean shook his head firmly. "No…but I think Thea found herself a vessel."

"Well…I think we need to summon Zachariah and find out what he's up to." Grace said, looking over at Sam and smiling. "Maybe rent another motel room?"

"If he gets lucky he'll go to hers." Dean replied, sipping his beer and smiling a little. "I kind of hope he _does_…he needs it."

Grace laughed and rolled her eyes. "Sex doesn't fix anything."

"It makes you feel good." Dean protested, though he knew he wasn't invested in the argument.

"That feeling lasts until the endorphins are gone…then you feel bad again." Grace said shrugging. "Why would you want that kind of bandaid?"

Dean nodded slowly, and then he smiled a little because he was learning more about Grace and he liked it. He was making a friend and he was glad to have someone he could talk to…someone he didn't have to worry about as far as demon blood was concerned. In fact as he thought about it more, he realized that there were a _lot_ of things he could talk to Grace about…but did he know her well enough yet? Of course he didn't.

"That bartender is eying you…you should flirt with her." Grace told Dean, setting her half empty beer down and deciding not to have anymore.

Dean shook his head and made eye contact with her. "I don't much feel for that kind of bandaid right now."

**Note: The first flashback for Grace will happen in the next chapter and I hope you guys will enjoy learning about her past. Also, I hope you liked that little look into the Grace/Dean/Sam friendship pow-wow. Feedback is always appreciated!**


	4. Live Your Life

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**I'm sooooo glad you guys love this story!**

**I will be updating other stories today too, but I really wanted this one out there to cement some of the relationships and give you some of Grace's past.**

**WARNINGS: Language, Controversial Topics, Dark Themes, Sex, Violence, Blood**

**ENJOY!**

****

Dean and Grace left the bar without Sam because he was a having a good time chatting with Miranda, and they went back to the motel. Grace went to go and take a shower and when she got out and got dressed in her boxers and t-shirt, she smiled a little and nodded when she saw Dean lying on the couch with a blanket and a pillow from Sam's claimed motel bed. She went over to the couch and looked at him, Dean looking up and curling up a little more so she could sit where his feet were.

"Honestly, I was looking forward to sleeping on the couch." Grace told him, sitting down and pulling her knees to her, resting her chin on them. "Thanks for being chivalrous, though."

Dean shrugged and smiled. "I have my moments."

"I've noticed. So…we need to get something out of the way before we continue, all right?" Grace asked him.

"Okay…" Dean said slowly, sitting up and looking at her. "What is it?"

Grace swallowed and then closed her eyes, spilling her words quickly. "If we have to do anything that has to do with a morgue, _you_ and _Sam_ have to do it."

Dean raised his eyebrows at her and then chuckled a little and she gave him a look. She honestly didn't find it that funny, but for some reason Dean couldn't stop laughing because he was so entertained by what she had said. He really couldn't understand how she could be a _hunter_, and yet _not_ be able to handle _morgues_…that was a _huge _part of what they did—a _huge_ part of getting to figure out what they were actually dealing with.

"I was right: you _are_ quirky." Dean told Grace, shaking his head. "Mind if I ask 'why'?"

Grace shrugged and took a breath. "I just, uh…I can't do the whole dead people on a slab thing. I can do mutilated, dying people, and even maimed beyond recognition people…but not dead people with faces just lying there."

Dean was going to ask her further questions on the subject but Grace's cell phone rang and she didn't recognize the number. She picked it up anyway, even though part of her told her not to. If there was one thing that Grace didn't want to do right then, it was talk about _why_ she couldn't do the whole morgue thing, and so she just picked up the phone and answered it.

"_Aunt Carrie?" Grace called out, tossing her book-bag onto the couch. "I'm back from my class! Where are you?"_

_Grace smiled a little when she saw the platter of chocolate chip cookies on the counter and grabbed one, biting into it. It was still warm, and definitely the gooey consistency that she liked and it made her feel pretty good inside. She'd just finished her college class and she had aced her final and all she wanted was to celebrate with her aunt—her aunt on her mother's side, the one that had taken her in and raised her after everything that had happened with her mother and her father._

"_Is Jeremy here by any chance?" Grace asked and then shook her head._

_Jeremy was her cousin, and he was always there for and he was probably still out with his friends. So Grace headed upstairs to her aunt's bedroom because her car had been there and she knew that her aunt was there. She opened up the bedroom door and she when she saw her aunt lying there on the floor, her face twisted in pain, Grace almost choked on the bite of cookie in her mouth._

_All her happiness was extinguished just like that, and she hurried over to her aunt, knowing by her cold body that she was gone. Then Grace felt the presence of the demon and she found herself being shoved up against the wall, the man tightening his grip on her neck, his eyes black as the night. She couldn't scream, and she didn't understand when an attractive blood man showed up and with ease, moved his hand, and sent the demon back to Hell._

_Grace choked and then felt the tears sliding down her cheeks as she glanced at her aunt again. "What are you?"_

"_Lucifer." He told her softly. "Surely you've heard of me."_

"Hello?" Grace answered quickly, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Castiel didn't waste a moment. "I'm Castiel, and I'm at the bar I'm assuming you and Dean just left. Where are you?"

"We're at the motel down the street in room 12." Grace explained, jumping a little when Castiel appeared on his cell phone. "Holy shit!"

"You'll get used to it—he also has this thing about ignoring personal space." Dean told her, smiling at Castiel. "So what brings you here, Cas?"

Castiel hung up his phone and looked directly at Grace. "Lucifer wanted you to be his vessel, Grace…did he explain why?"

Grace flipped her phone shut and set it back down on the coffee table next to the couch, looking at Castiel. They made eye contact, her warm eyes greeting his cool, blue ones, and she took a deep breath. There was a lot more to her conversation with Lucifer than she was ready to indulge, but she knew that if an angel was asking for the story—an angel that Lucifer had mentioned to her and Bobby trusted—she'd have to tell him _something_…

"He said I was strong…he said that I was what he needed…he said that deep down I knew that I was supposed to be his 'pit-stop to Sam'." Grace explained to him, glad it was the truth even though it wasn't everything.

Castiel nodded slowly. "Well I do not believe that he is done with you, Grace. Dean? I need you to keep an eye on her."

"Oh, please." Grace said, rolling her eyes. "I can keep myself safe and I think you both know it. As long as I don't give him permission, he'll keep himself away…or at least he won't do anything _too_ drastic. He may be the devil, but so far even though he's been rejected, he isn't hurting anyone close to us."

"She has a point, Cas." Dean told him and then he took a breath. "Anything else?"

Castiel nodded slowly. "There's a hunt here and it has nothing to do with Zachariah. Zachariah already accomplished his task—Thea, our sister, already found her vessel."

**

"You sure are a natural at this." Miranda told Sam, smiling at him and nodding.

If there was one thing that Sam knew how to do, it was play pool and play it well. He and Dean had hustled a game or two in their day, and honestly it was nice to unwind like this and keep his mind off of things. Sam knew he needed some fun in his life, and though he wasn't looking for just a fun night or a one-night stand, he was definitely in the mood to feel better right then.

"I've just played a lot in my day." Sam said shrugging. "It's nothing you couldn't be great at with practice."

Miranda smiled some more. "All right…care to wager on a game then?"

"Wager, eh? How much are we talking here?" Sam asked her. "I mean are you just hustling me here, Miranda."

"I'm not hustling you, promise." Miranda laughed and looked through her wallet. "A hundred bucks?"

Sam thought it over and then nodded at her. "All right…a hundred bucks."

Miranda smiled at him and then she set the balls up, pulling out a coin and calling tails. Sam nodded and then she flipped the coin, and smiled—she got to break and that was what she was hoping for. She hit the cue-ball into the point of the triangle of balls and smiled when she sunk two solid balls, going after them. Sam was impressed and she knew it, and his gaze was making her a little nervous.

She hadn't come into the bar looking for a man to flirt with—she had simply come into the bar to get her mind off of things and this was a way to do it. Now she was having a lot of fun with a _very_ attractive man, and she wanted more than anything to just give in and let it all happen. Besides, her nervousness had made her handle on her pool stick falter, and she missed the hit she wanted to make, making it Sam's turn to shoot.

He smiled at her and leaned on the table a little, calculating the trajectory of one of the striped balls, sinking it into the hole he wanted it to go in after it bounced off the wall of the table in the desired angle. Miranda nodded and laughed a little, pretty sure right then that she was going to lose, and in fact she almost did. It was only when she leaned over a little and Sam made the mistake of glancing at her and feeling his whole face flush at how attractive she looked that he fumbled.

"I wish I could play this game as well as you do." Miranda told him, both of them making direct eye contact.

Sam nodded at her and offered to show her, Miranda making a witty remark about how this was the moment Sam had been waiting for all night. He just laughed at her and shrugged and she accepted—she wouldn't mind being touched by him actually. In fact when he got up behind her and started showing her how to position the pool cue, he smelled the vanilla in her hair and he couldn't help but be drawn in by it. Sam Winchester hadn't been _this _close to woman in so long he honestly couldn't remember how this could feel, but he couldn't take advantage of this.

He lived in a world where he was a hunter, and he couldn't even completely trust _himself_, so he didn't want to drag someone else into his crazy life. Sam had so many of his _own_ issues to straighten out and Miranda did too, but they both liked this closeness. Miranda liked the feelings of Sam's muscles contracting and relaxing against her, and once she thought she had the hang of it, Sam let her go and watched as his technique worked for her—even though in the end it was Sam winning, the eight ball banking off the side and sinking into the pocket corner like it was meant to be put there by Sam.

"Wow," Miranda said, letting out a whistle and grinning from ear to ear, "that was a really fun game and I'm glad I got to share it with you. Thanks, Sam…for letting me unwind a bit."

Sam nodded at her. "Thank _you_, Miranda."

He turned to leave but her voice caught him and he turned to look at her, smiling as she ran her fingers through her locks nervously. This was obviously something she'd never done before and he admired her forwardness—it reminded him a little of Dean. She had this air about her that spoke more about her than her own actions did, and part of Sam didn't want to leave the bar at all, but he had to.

"I'd like you to have my number." Miranda told him, pulling out her phone. "I'm going to text you, and you can decide whether or not you want to call me or not."

Sam smiled at her and nodded, telling him her number and letting her program it into his phone before he thanked her again and left the bar. He fixed his jacket and felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, pulling it out and smiling at the unknown number. Nervously, Sam opened up the text and he read it over.

_Sam,_

_Thanks for the pool and the understanding ear._

_You made my night._

_Miranda_

Sam nodded and he paused in his tracks, trying to figure out what in the world he was going to do. He liked Miranda, a _lot_, but he still honestly believed that no matter what he did here, he was going to ruin her life in the long-run. Once upon a time Sam Winchester wanted to have a normal life—have the picket fence kind of life—but he couldn't do that now. Still…there was something about Miranda that just _really_ made him feel like he had to give this a chance or he'd never forgive himself. Taking a deep breath, Sam made his decision.

_Miranda,_

_You made mine too._

_Sam_

**

Once Castiel had left to look more into what Lucifer was up to, Grace leaned on the couch and turned on the TV, Dean looking her over. Something about her _definitely_ struck him as a strong individual, and if Dean knew anything, it was when someone _didn't_ want to talk. She was freaking about what Lucifer had said to her, and she didn't want to indulge her whole life story to him, even though she was _trying_ to bond with him.

There were so many things that Dean wanted to talk to her about, and when she looked at him and smiled a bit, he found himself just talking. He hadn't meant to verbally vomit all over her, but for some reason her soft look at him made him want to talk to her about _everything_, and so he was just talking. Grace seemed like she could read him _so_ well, and he needed to get some things off of his chest…he _hated_ to care and share, but right then he just couldn't stop the words flooding out of his mouth.

"How do you do it, Grace?" Dean asked her, continuing even though she opened her mouth to engage in the conversation _with_ him. "I mean all of this shit is happening all around you and yet you still carry on with an optimistic attitude. The _devil_ of _all_ of the angels wants _you_ as a vessel to get to Sam, and I mean you're hanging out with your Dad that you _never_ talk to. You have a dark past, but what? You're just bright and happy? How do you do it, Grace? How do you have _so_ many problems and yet _so_ much faith?"

Grace shook her head and shrugged. "Sometimes I ask myself the same question but I always circle around to the same answer: life is too short to hate yourself and dwell on your regrets. We could drop dead at _any_ moment, and do we _really_ wanna go out having so many negative feelings? What's the point, Dean?"

"So…your faith is better than a bandaid?" Dean asked her, slightly overwhelmed by her answer to his questions.

He knew he had to let it sink in, and yet he wanted to understand it all _right_ then and there and he didn't. Grace felt like she had to actually _live_ life…_not_ just go through the motions like Dean was doing these days. She was actually trying to _have_ a life, whereas Dean was simply doing what he thought he was _supposed_ to be doing. It was refreshing—neither him _nor_ Sam had been optimistic in so long that Dean had almost forgotten what it was like. Famine had been right: Dean _was_ dead inside.

"Look, Dean," Grace told him, moving closer to him on the couch, their faces inches apart as her eyes caught his, "you need to stop being so hard on yourself."

Dean shook his head. "I don't know how to do this anymore without feeling _bitter_."

"Hey, I get that." Grace said nodding. "I mean I don't understand what it was like to be in Hell and torturing all of those souls, or what its like to have the kind of pressure on my shoulders that _you_ have because of Michael, but I _do_ know what it's like to lose _so many_ people who are close to you…I know what it's like to lose face in yourself."

"So how do you keep going?" Dean asked her, trying to wet his dry mouth.

Dean was pretty certain he was letting Grace see more of his insecurities than he wanted her to see just yet, but he couldn't help it. He hated the feeling inside of him that kept threatening to get bigger and he knew he needed help here no matter how hard it was for him to ask for it. Grace seemed like his only option here, and he knew that she was the only one who had the brighter look on things—everyone around him was hanging out in their own despair for one thing or another.

"I just…even with everything bad that has happened, I don't want to just lay down and die." Grace told him shrugging. "Do you wanna know the _real_ reason I showed up when I did, Dean?"

Dean scooted a little closer to her, knowing he was invading her personal space now. "Yeah…I'd like that, Grace."

"I walked in on my aunt…and she was dead…just lying there on the floor, her face twisted in pain. He hadn't even laid a hand on her…some other demon had." Grace told him, the tears starting to come to her eyes. "After my mother, my aunt was the only woman in my life who raised me—she was almost _like_ my mother. Seeing her like that, dead and scared and everything…it was the second worst thing that had _ever_ happened to me, and _Lucifer_ comforted me."

"Grace, I'm sorry—I didn't mean to start this conversation." Dean said truthfully, reaching up and stroking her hair softly.

The movement surprised both of them and Dean drew his hand back, Grace's cheeks flushing, but neither of them flinched. It was just a shared understanding with their eyes that they weren't _that_ close yet—but that they both cared…that _Dean_ cared enough to not want to see her in pain. Grace bit her lip and then drew a deep breath in through her nose, keeping the tears at bay because she didn't want to cry…she _couldn't_.

"It's okay…sooner or later you'd find out…it's why I can't do morgues." Grace explained to him. "When she was buried…she had an open-casket funeral…and she looked so _peaceful_…but that's not how she actually _died_."

Dean nodded and leaned his face in a little more, glancing at her mouth. "I get it, Grace…thank you."

"You're welcome." Grace managed to breathe.

Neither of them knew what was going to happen, or even if anything _was_ going to happen, but it didn't matter because Sam walked into the room. He took his jacket off and explained that he had a fun game of pool as Grace and Dean pulled back from each other slowly, Grace looking to the TV. She had broken the eye contact first and Dean didn't know what kind of sign that was, but he knew he shouldn't be dwelling too much on it—she was Bobby's daughter, and there obviously _hadn't_ been a moment between them.

"There's a hunt here." Dean told Sam.

Sam looked at him. "Yeah? We should get started on it then."

"I agree." Grace said, smiling at Sam like nothing had happened. "We should sleep first, I think."

"Agreed—I'm tired." Sam said and then chuckled and smiled at Dean. "We're not gonna flip for it?"

Dean shook his head and ignored the want to watch Grace when she went to her bed. "Nah, I'll sleep on the couch. So…no sex?"

"No, no sex, Dean." Sam said, rolling his eyes and rummaging through his duffel for something to sleep in. "Not everything is about sex, Dean."

Dean nodded and resisted the urge to make a joke about it because he was beginning to understand that. Sex hadn't been making him feel better afterwards in the long run anyway, and he was realizing that no matter what he did, he didn't know the answer behind being _happy_ again. Once upon a time Dean and Sam Winchester had been _happy_…and neither of them knew how to get that feeling back…but they _wanted_ it back.

**Note: There will be a flashback to Grace's conversation with Lucifer very soon, and I hope you guys will enjoy it! This story is fun and I hope to get it updated soon, all right? Feedback is always appreciated!**


	5. Past and Promises

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Just a note that I'm sure the episode with Bobby's dead wife will change some things in here, but, I'm doing my own thing mostly as far as that is concerned.**

**Hope you guys don't mind that.**

**WARNINGS: Language, Controversial Topics, Dark Themes, Sex, Violence, Blood**

**ENJOY!**

****

"We definitely have to go to the morgue." Sam announced as he looked at his laptop, nodding and then looking at Grace.

Grace groaned and put her head on the table, her fingers in her hair. "I don't see how this is even fair."

"Don't worry—you can just stand watch." Dean assured her, nodding.

Sam looked at Dean because he was completely confused as to _why_ Grace didn't do this whole 'morgue' thing, but if Dean wasn't going to make her, then fine. She had gone out and brought them all coffee in the morning and now they had to head out and do what Hunters did best—pretend to be someone they weren't. So Grace got herself composed and changed her clothes, briefly glancing over at Dean.

He couldn't deny that he'd checked her out a couple times as she smoothed down her suit skirt, and then he held his breath a moment when she walked up to him. Her hair was down, but Dean had a feeling that she'd pull it up because that was what she tended to do to keep it out of her face. At first Dean didn't know what she was doing, but when she motioned to him he completely understood.

"Your tie is a little messed up…may I?" She asked him.

Dean nodded at her. "Be my guest."

Grace smiled at that and undid his tie, doing it again and glancing up into his eyes momentarily, blushing a little at his eyes on her. He hadn't intended on staring at her but he couldn't help himself since she was right there. Besides, she was a beautiful young woman and she was trying to be his friend and what other thing should Dean have been focusing on? Grace was easier on the eyes—that was for sure.

"All done." Grace told him, backing away and running her fingers through her hair, pulling her hair back.

Dean chuckled as Sam came out of the bathroom in his suit. "You know, I think its kind of a waist of a good get-up when you're not going to get down and dirty."

"That's why I'm going to sweet-talk our way _in_." Grace replied with a wink.

"Touché." Dean replied and nodded at her.

The two of them shared a smile that Sam caught between them, and then they headed to the morgue and Dean shook his head. He couldn't understand how _everything_ could come _so_ easily to her—it was almost like she wasn't even human. Still, he and Sam went in to do their thing and Grace stood watch and ran her fingers through her ponytail.

"I kind of like her." Sam told Dean, shrugging his shoulders.

Dean shrugged too. "She's good company, I suppose."

"I can hear you." Grace told them, smiling and shaking her head.

"You know, most people in your position would keep their mouths closed to hear the whole conversation, but not you—you had to open up your yap." Dean said, and he smiled when she laughed softly—Dean was really growing accustomed to her delightful laugh, and he didn't know why.

Sam nodded at Dean as he looked the wound on the dead body over, glad to see that such little things were making Dean a little happier. They hadn't even _talked_ about the demon blood incident, but he knew that the moment they did, all of this 'calm' was over and done with and Sam liked the false sense of brother-ship between him and Dean. It was nice for Sam that Dean had someone to talk to—even if she didn't _completely_ get all of what was going on.

"This was definitely down by a Brachen." Sam said pulling off his bloody glove and pushing the metal slab with the body back into the wall and closing the door. "Body's gone Grace."

Grace turned around, her hand covering her eyes. "Promise?"

"He promises." Dean chuckled softly, shaking his head at her as she slowly put her hand down, only one eye open until she could see it was true and then she walked over to them. "I think it would be best if—"

"—we need to split up to find the thing." Grace finished for him nodding. "We need to shoot it with silver, and it _has_ to be burned, got it?"

Dean ran his hand down his face. "Something tells me you want to go after it alone and then pair Sam and I up together."

"It would be best if one of us teamed up with you, Grace—the other one can man the phone and make sure all the burial stuff is set in motion." Sam explained to her.

"All right." Grace agreed nodding. "Since Sam seems to be the best at the spells and all, I say _he_ mans the phone."

Sam just laughed and nodded, Dean agreeing too so it made the planning out rather easy with no arguments. They all headed back to the motel and then they got ready to go, Sam setting up for the ceremony to banish the demon to Hell, and Dean and Grace headed out to the warehouse. Dean glanced at Grace as she picked a gun out of the trunk and then she took a deep breath and looked up at him, their eyes meeting and she just smiled…and swallowed down her fear.

**

Bobby took a deep breath and looked at his phone for what felt like the hundredth time since he had thought about calling Grace. He didn't want to smother her, but she was brought back into his life and he felt like he had to protect her no matter what happened. He didn't know why Grace had come back to him either, besides the apocalypse—she had no reason to come back to him.

Honestly Bobby was still a little fuzzy on why Grace would want to come back into the fold and be with _him_ of all people. There were other hunters that Grace could have gone to, but she had decided to find her father..._why_? Bobby had genuinely believed that there was _nothing_ in the world that would bring Grace back to him…not after everything that he had done.

"_Gracie? Honey?" Bobby asked, rapping his knuckles on the door._

_There had been so much blood on his hands and he just didn't know how he was going to get through this. It just seemed like it was the only way that it could happen and now he was dealing with the aftermath and how could he do this? He __**knew **__what Grace had seen, and he __**knew **__that __**nothing **__he could say could make it better._

"_Go away!" Grace cried, tears streaming down her face and she held her pillow to her and cried, trying to get the images out of her head. "I hate you!"_

_Bobby bit his trembling lip. "Gracie, honey, don't say that. You don't understand."_

"_You killed Mommy!" Grace cried back through the door, trying to swallow down the pain in her throat. "I hate you! I hate you!"_

"_Gracie, honey, I __**had **__to!" Bobby pleaded through the door. "Just let me in, honey."_

_Grace shook her head violently as she cried some more. "Go away! I don't ever want to see you again! I hate you! You killed her!"_

_Bobby just nodded as he swallowed down his pain and his guilt, and he looked at his hands. He'd washed them __**so **__many times and yet he just couldn't seem to get them to be clean again. Tears started to roll down his cheeks and he thought about his young daughter, sad and alone and he thought about his wife—his beautiful wife—how could things have gotten messed up __**this **__badly? How could he deal with the feeling that maybe he'd been too rash in his decision?_

Bobby ran a hand down his face and he adjusted his baseball cap, calling Grace because he needed her. He needed to know that she was all right, and he needed to make sure that he wasn't going to lose her too. The second hardest moment of his life had been giving Grace over to her aunt, and he knew he was never going to stop regretting his decision…he knew he could never take **all **of Grace's pain back.

"Hey, Dad." Grace answered, Dean nodding and walking around the Impala to give her some space. "What's up?"

Bobby smiled sadly. "I was just checking in on you…that's okay, isn't it?"

"Yeah, that's fine." Grace replied, smiling sadly herself. "I'm actually kind of glad that you did…we need a fresh start, and this is it."

"Kid, we'll never _really_ have a fresh start, but…I'm glad you want to try." Bobby admitted, feeling like he was going to lose it and he couldn't. "You sure you're okay?"

Grace nodded, some tears coming to her eyes. "Yeah…I just, uh…you know if you let me live with you when this little hunt is over…we can get to know each other."

Bobby didn't know why the words had made a couple tears escape, but they had and he just chuckled a little, glad to hear her laugh even though he knew she was crying a little too. Their relationship was hard, and it was complicated, and their past was going to be hard to get past, but they _wanted_ to get past it—and that was the most important part. So Bobby composed himself and just nodded, knowing he had to vocalize how he felt because he was on the phone.

"I'd like that Grace." Bobby told her.

She nodded and smiled. "Me too, and Dad?"

"Yeah, Gracie?" Bobby asked her.

"I don't hate you." Grace replied, crying a little. "I'll talk to you soon—Dean and I have a warehouse to go into."

Bobby nodded, smiling at her words. "All right, call me when it's done."

"No problem—bye, Dad." Grace told him, nodding as she looked at her phone.

_Jeremy looked at Grace and shook his head, but no matter __**how**__ many times he shook his head, he knew Grace was stubborn. She had made up her mind about what she wanted to do and she was going to do it whether she had __**his**__ blessing or not. Grace blotted her wet eyes with the back of her hand as she avoided eye contact with the casket her aunt was in and she just shrugged her shoulders._

"_I __**have**__ to find him, Jeremy." She told him, looking directly at him. "He's my __**father**__, and I understand what he did now. I couldn't understand it before because I was too little. He didn't have a choice then…he didn't know what he knows now and this is big."_

_Jeremy sighed and closed his eyes, hugging her. "I just worry about you, Grace."_

"_It's okay…I can take care of myself." Grace said, trying to smile. "Besides…I have angels watching over me."_

Bobby set his phone next to the giant book he was looking at and he wiped the tears off of his face, promising to be stronger in the future. His daughter needed him, and he needed her, and this was their new beginning, even though he knew that deep down they'd always have the problems of the past. He had killed her mother, and there was no way that she just going to get over it…but at least she wanted to try.

**

"Grace!" Dean cried out.

Grace let out a soft cry as she felt the demon's claw scratch her side, and then she pointed the gun at it and it was knocked away from her. The one thing Grace had forgotten to mention was that close combat was kind of a weakness for her—she hadn't been in too much practice with it. She was more of a hands off, far away destroying kind of hunter…at least she had been most of her hunting career. There were times that her job demanded hands on, but it had been awhile.

"Son of a bitch!" Grace cursed, ducking when the demon swiped at her, kicking it away from her hard.

As Grace went for her knocked away gun, Dean shot the demon a couple of times and then looked surprised when the demon's head was blown off. He turned to see Grace standing there strongly for a moment with the gun smoking, and then she faltered and went to clutch her bleeding side. Dean wanted to hurry for her but she was waving her hands and he knew what his position was supposed to be here and he hacked off some of the demon's other body parts, gathering him up in a couple bags and hauling him out.

The two got the demon to the motel and though Sam rushed to Grace's side, her starting to look a little pale, he grabbed the bags from Dean. He performed the cleansing ritual and then they burned the parts, burying the demon out back, making sure to put salt in the grave. Afterwards they went back into the motel room and Dean went for the first aid things, handing Grace a bottle of scotch.

She looked at it and laughed a little. "I'd rather you pour this on the wound."

"We're going to need some more gauze." Dean said absent-mindedly, only smiling a little at Grace's joke, but more worried about getting Grace back to her father mauled up.

"I'm on it." Sam said, hurrying out of the room as Grace opened up the scotch and then started to take off her shirt.

Dean was a little surprised. "Whoa, what are you doing?"

"You need to fix me up, Doofus—you need to see the wound." Grace told him, revealing her cotton bra and lifting her arm a little for Dean to see her wound. "How bad is it? Be _brutally_ honest please, because it hurts like a mother."

Dean swallowed down his embarrassment and slowly looked at her wound, making Grace feel like she was blushing all over. He had seen half naked women before, and for some reason, he had just never felt this flustered around one—so responsible for making her better. Grace pushed her hair off of her shoulders and glanced at Dean checking her wound over, drinking some scotch when he touched it and it throbbed.

"I'm sorry." Dean whispered when she flinched.

Grace shook her head, trying not to cry because of the pain. "It's okay, you didn't mean to, Dean. Just…this is going to sound crazy, but can you talk about something while you clean it? It _really_ hurts…and I've heard you sing in the car, and that's not going to get my mind off of the pain—it'll only _displace_ the pain for a little while."

"Way to talk to the man fixing you up." Dean told her, but he nodded.

He started to talk to her about a few of the hunts that he and Sam had gone on that gave them a few laughs afterwards, Grace sucking down the scotch only when it hurt a lot. She was pretty good at focusing on Dean's voice, and Sam smiled at them when he walked in and neither of them noticed him. Dean was focused on fixing up Grace, and Grace was focused on Dean, cringing a little and closing her eyes when Dean put the ointment on her. Then Sam helped with the guaze and Grace smiled at Dean, both of them locking eye contact as Sam grabbed Grace another shirt out of her duffle.

"Thank you." Grace told him softly, smiling at him fondly.

Dean nodded, not breaking eye contact. "You're welcome."

Sam nodded and smiled as Grace kissed Dean's cheek, and then got up and took her shirt from Sam, going into the bathroom to change after making a swift trip to her duffle. Dean composed himself and put the bloody things into bags to throw away, avoiding eye contact with Sam. He cleared his throat though and Dean threw a look his way, _not_ wanting to get into it because he was simply helping to patch Grace up—he had made a promise to Bobby to keep Grace safe, and he was going to _keep_ that promise.

"You like her." Sam told Dean. "Honestly? I don't blame you."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Stop reading into things, Sammy."

"Do we have any painkillers?" Grace asked, coming out of the bathroom in a tight t-shirt and pajama pants. "I wanna crash, but it still hurts—sorry to whine about it over and over like a girl."

"Whatever, you _are_ a girl." Dean told her chuckling, tossing her a small bottle of pills. "Only take two, and eat something so they don't hurt your delicate, girly tummy, k?"

Grace laughed, catching Dean's impressed look when she caught the pills with ease. "You are just _so_ incredibly funny I'm laughing for pity."

Dean laughed and rolled his eyes, turning to Sam and pulling a face as Sam laughed and shook his head. He hadn't seen Dean like this in a while, but he knew that if Dean was going to protest like this, he really _did_ have some feelings for her. It didn't matter though, because suddenly they weren't alone in the room—Zachariah was there too.

**Note: I hope you all enjoyed that! I am having a little **_**too **_**much fun developing Grace, and adding all the tension. More flashbacks soon! Feedback is always appreciated!**


	6. Getting Attached

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**The first part of this chapter is **_**very**_** angel-centric, and it should answer a lot of questions, but there are still some that are raised.**

**There's also a **_**lot **_**of friendship between Grace and the boys in this, and a cute Father/Daughter moment between Grace and Bobby.**

**WARNINGS: Language, Controversial Topics, Dark Themes, Sex, Violence, Blood**

**ENJOY!**

****

"I assume you're an angel because you just showed up for no good reason without calling first." Grace said and then she raised her eyebrows. "But aren't…never mind."

Grace just nodded, having answered her own questioned—Sam and Dean were shielded from the angels because it was all tattooed on their ribs, but she was only shielded when she wore her pendant…and she'd removed it before they went to the warehouse. It was courtesy of Lucifer, actually. She ran her fingers through her hair as Zachariah looked right at her, and then she looked him in the eye.

Dean made a movement to step closer to Grace protectively, but Sam reached out and held him back, shaking his head. Obviously Zachariah had come for Grace and _not_ for Sam or Dean, and Sam wanted to know _why_—he wanted to know what was going on. It was weird enough that Lucifer had come to Grace of all people for a vessel…what was her story? Did Zachariah know it?

"I always wondered about you." Zachariah said, looking Grace up and down. "Gotta say, I don't understand the hype."

Dean snapped his fingers. "Hey! She's not a piece of meat! What do you want, Zachariah?"

"Dean…stop talking." Zachariah told him, his eyes on Grace the whole time. "You have a role to play, Grace."

"I really think I do." Grace admitted nodding. "It's just not to let Lucifer in."

Zachariah nodded at her. "I'm not here to tell you any differently."

"Then why _are_ you here?" Dean asked him.

Grace looked over at Dean and smiled softly, shaking her head at him because she wanted to handle this on her own. She understood already that Zachariah was for real—he wanted the Apocalypse to happen, but it was obvious he didn't want Lucifer to win. He just wanted to see Lucifer's other choice, and it was all beginning to settle in for Grace finally—she was finally beginning to understand what Lucifer meant.

"This was all because of your mother." Zachariah explained to Grace, shaking his head. "What happened to her was an accident."

Grace nodded slowly. "Luce seems to think it was all part of a plan."

"He just wants you to say 'yes'." Zachariah said, shaking his head. "Your mother was supposed to raise you, but you got the next best thing—your aunt prepared you."

"Even though Dad didn't want her to." Grace remembered, nodding slowly and biting her lip. "So why are you here, Zachariah?"

Zachariah nodded at her and took a breath. "I need to know what he said to you, Grace."

Grace wasn't sure what it was that she really wanted to do, but she knew she needed answers and Zachariah seemed to have them. So she started from the beginning—from walking into the house, to the cookie, to thinking of Jeremy, to finding her aunt, dead on the floor. She glanced at Dean who just gave her a supportive nod, and she bit her trembling lip and took a deep breath, explaining everything that happened between her and Lucifer.

_Grace choked and then felt the tears sliding down her cheeks as she glanced at her aunt again. "What are you?"_

"_Lucifer." He told her softly. "Surely you've heard of me."_

_Grace took a deep breath. "You mean…the __**Devil**__?! What…what are __**you **__doing here?"_

_Lucifer smiled at her. "I'm here because I need you Grace—I need your help."_

_Grace turned her eyes from her aunt's cold, dead body and swallowed, wishing Jeremy would come to her rescue. If there was one thing that Jeremy was good at, it was knowing when his cousin was in trouble—Grace loved that connection between them. Her eyes met Lucifer's and she found herself wanting to know everything…she found herself wanting to understand __**why**__ he was there, and why he needed __**her**__._

"_Why me?" Grace asked him._

_He took a step towards her and smiled when she didn't even flinch. "This has been set in motion since your mother was born, Grace. She denied her duty, and an even more __**important**__ duty was passed to you…I need you to be my vessel, Grace. I can help you to take all of your pain away, and then when I finally get to Sam—my true vessel—I will give you everything you could ever want…you just have to say 'yes', Grace."_

"_I'm not sure that I understand." She told him softly. "Vessels…my aunt made sure I knew about them, but…my mother was one? __**I'm**__ one? Why would I help __**you**__? Why would I help the __**Devil**__?"_

"_Because I understand what it's like to be betrayed by my family, Grace." Lucifer explained to her. "I understand what it's like to have so much pain inside that you can't handle it all on your own…I know what its like to be betrayed by your own father."_

_Grace wished he wasn't making so much sense to her—wished that she wasn't feeling so bad for him—but he __**was**__…and so was she. She shook her head though, because even though he had killed the demon that had killed her aunt, Grace wasn't going to be any part of this. Her mother had told her to stay away from the Devil, and she was going to make sure that she did just that…she needed to know more about herself…she needed to find her father and learn more about her mother._

"_I can't." Grace told him._

_He smiled and nodded. "We'll be in touch, Grace…I'll never lie to you…I'll always support you."_

"So as you can see…he's kind of desperate right now." Grace explained, nodding slowly and wiping away some tears. "You both said this was all because of my mother…why exactly?"

Zachariah nodded and took another breath. "Your mother was a vessel and she knew it, Grace. There was only one angel that ever really talked to her—Thea. She knew your mother would never let her in, and the demons got to her first. Bobby wasn't supposed to kill her, but he didn't know what to do."

"Of course he didn't—it wasn't his life." Grace said, the tears sliding down her cheeks as she blinked to get them to stop. "He didn't understand…and I had to watch him _kill _my mother…I watched her blood spill out onto his hands, and I watched the tears and the pain on his face but all I could think about was that my _father _had just killed my _mother_…what little girl can deal with that?"

"Grace…" Dean said softly, but he just swallowed when she shook her head.

She looked at Zachariah. "You should go now…I'll be in touch when I want to be."

Zachariah wanted to protest but she was giving him a look and he left, Grace immediately trying to brighten up and telling the boys she wanted to sleep. They didn't push her and Sam fell asleep rather quickly, Dean staying up a little longer but eventually sleeping as well. Grace was in pain because of her wound, but she didn't want to be alone…she couldn't sleep…so she got out of the bed and went to the couch, tucking her hair behind her ears and pushing on Dean's shoulder softly.

"Dean?" Grace whispered, smiling a little when his eyes blinked open slowly.

He stretched a little. "What's wrong, Grace?"

"Would you make fun of me if I asked you to come sleep on the bed with me?" Grace asked, blushing feverishly. "I just, uh…I can't sleep…by myself right now…please?"

"Yeah…" Dean said softly, getting up as she smiled at him.

Grace smiled a little. "Yeah you'll make fun of me, or yeah you'll do it?"

Dean just chuckled a little and pointed to her bed, getting under the covers with her and lying down. He knew how embarrassed she was to ask, so he was keeping his hands to himself, but it seemed like his presence was enough, and his breath caught in his throat as he smiled a little when she snuggled against him. Grace smiled awkwardly and decided to make a joke to make the situation less stressful—she knew Dean must be feeling _so _weird right about then.

"I promise I'm not trying to grope you." Grace told him, smiling a little when he chuckled. "Thank you."

**

Dean faintly smelt Cucumber Melon when he woke up the next morning, realizing as he opened up his eyes that Grace's hair was close to him. He smiled a little and then realized that he had his arm draped over her and he was spooning her. Somehow in the middle of the night, Dean had cuddled up next to her and her body fit into his perfectly and it was starting to mess with his mind. What was he thinking?

"It's sweet you're being protective, but I'm still kind of in a little bit of pain." Grace said suddenly, pulling Dean from his thoughts.

Dean felt a little flustered. "Sorry! Sorry!"

"It's okay—I enjoyed the warmth." Grace told him, turning so she was on her back as Dean pulled back and looked at her, Grace smiling at him softly. "Sorry I'm such a girl."

"Trust me I wouldn't have cuddled you had you _not_ been a girl." Dean replied and looked up quickly when Sam came into the room. "Hey, Sam!"

Sam chuckled at him. "I brought you guys coffee, and I brought Grace some food—you still look a little pale, and I'm worried."

"I lost a lot of blood yesterday, but I'm totally fine." Grace said waving it off.

Sam just nodded as Dean got out of the bed and Grace sat up slowly, cringing a little and shaking her head as Dean came for her slowly. She really didn't want to be babied, even though she knew that her feeling weak and in _this much_ pain was probably a bad sign—she just wanted to get back to Bobby. So she got up and she masked the pain as best as she could, eating, taking come pain killers, and then getting dressed and forcing the boys back out onto the road.

Grace smiled when she opened up the door to Bobby's house, calling out his name and smiling a little more when he wheeled into view. He was much more settled now knowing that Grace was all right, but at the same time his entire demeanor changed once he saw her cringe. She waved it off and went to go to sleep, Sam and Dean heading into the other room to talk about what was going on.

"I think we should get her to a doctor." Sam told Dean. "You're _positive_ the Brachen only got her with a _claw_, right?"

Bobby's eyes widened. "She got hurt by a _Brachen_?! She could be poisoned!"

"He didn't get her with a fang, Bobby—she's just suffering from some blood loss." Dean assured him. "I do agree with Sammy though…she looks really pale."

"I'm going to check on her." Bobby explained, wheeling to Grace's room and over to her bed.

Grace smiled a little. "Come to check on the wound? The bandage _does_ need to be changed—Dean cleaned it up and it's not infected, I don't think."

Grace took her shirt off and Bobby reached out to take the bandage off after grabbing his first aid supplies, and he looked the wound over. She was right—Dean had cleaned her wound out thoroughly and she was healing, even though she was in a _lot_ of pain because of how deep the wound had been. Bobby patched her up again and got her some water, watching over her for the next few hours, Sam and Dean sticking around to make sure they didn't need to take her to the hospital.

The worried look on Bobby's face was making Dean shift uncomfortably, and he and Sam went back into the other room and began to talk about Lucifer. Bobby listened in and he took a deep breath—he hadn't realized even _half_ of what was going on with her and he wished he could make this better for her. He felt so incredibly responsible for _everything_ that Grace went through, and so he wheeled back into her room and watched her sleep.

"I'm so sorry, Gracie." Bobby breathed, wiping his hand down his face. "Honey, I'm _so_ sorry."

He ran his large, worn hand over her forehead and stroked her hair, leaning down and kissing her forehead. Then he parked next to her bed and watched her sleep because he just wanted to be there for whatever changes occurred. Bobby never wanted anything bad to happen to Grace again—he was going to use this time to get to know her, to give her a better life than he had given her before…he owed her that much.

**

Grace woke up in the middle of the night and stretched a little, in less pain than before, but still in pain. She smiled a little at Bobby asleep in his wheelchair, and she kissed him softly as she got up. Honestly she was feeling a _lot_ stronger, and she was incredibly hungry, so she went down to the kitchen and smiled at Sam in there with a sandwich. He smiled back at her and blushed a little, a bite of sandwich still unchewed in his mouth.

"Want me to make you a sandwich?" Sam asked her.

She smiled at him and shook her head. "No, thanks—I can make my _own_ sandwich, but I appreciate the offer."

"You definitely look better than before." Sam told her, glad she looked like she was feeling better.

"Thank you—I _told_ you that it was just the blood loss." Grace said, smiling at him and making herself a sandwich. "So you can't sleep or something?"

Sam shrugged softly. "Or something."

Sam had a feeling that he could trust Grace with anything, and he wanted to open up to her, but he didn't know if he should. He looked at her and took another bite of his sandwich, smiling a little when she smiled at him as she put the meat and the lettuce on her sandwich. When she had it made she sat down next to him and took a large bite, Sam nodding at her and deciding to just get it all off of his chest and over with.

"We have a lot in common…you know…like with Lucifer." Sam told her.

Grace nodded at him. "You're right…we do. You ever wish you were being set on a different path, Sam?"

"All the time." Sam admitted, taking another bite. "I've done so many shitty things and I can't even…Dean doesn't look at me the same way."

"You know, I know you both have things to regret, but you can't let it get in the way of what you have between you as brothers." Grace told him, setting her sandwich down on the plate and turning towards him a little. "Yeah, demon blood—it was a _terrible_ decision on your part but you _know_ that, and that's what matters. In Hell, Dean tortured souls and he enjoyed it…his bad and he knows it was a bad choice. There are just some things that you guys have done that you can't change, but that doesn't mean you guys should throw away the relationship you have."

Sam took a breath. "I just…I can't expect him to ever trust me again."

"Look, Sam," Grace told him, resting her hand on his shoulder, "you and Dean have been through a _lot_ together, and though it might be hard, and though it won't ever be the way that it was before, you guys have a _strong_ relationship…and it's important to keep it."

Sam nodded at her, Dean over-hearing right outside the kitchen and deciding to stay right where he was. He hated that Sam felt like he didn't trust him, and though there were moments when Dean realized that he thought he didn't, Sam was his little brother and Dean liked being around him—he enjoyed his brother's company and he still trusted him with his life. Dean just wasn't vocal about it, and Sam understood that enough not to push him into any 'care and shares'…no matter how badly Sam needed to hear the words from Dean's own mouth.

"Dean just doesn't like to talk about things." Sam said, shrugging as he watched Grace eat a little more.

Grace nodded slowly. "You know, I bet if you just randomly let him know, he'd return the favor. You've both been through a lot…you've both had to make some hard decisions, and I _know_ that the two of you will be okay if you just communicate."

"How did you get so optimistic?" Sam asked, laughing a little.

"If I wasn't optimistic, I'd probably just lay down and die." Grace told him, laughing and shrugging as she took another bite of her sandwich.

Sam smiled at her and nodded, knowing right then and there that Grace was his friend—that Grace cared about him and Dean even though she didn't have to. She was holding onto so much, and she was trying so hard, and Sam was honestly feeling like he was blessed to meet her. He and Dean _needed_ her in their lives right then, and he was glad that he already felt so comfortable around her.

"Thank you, Grace." Sam told her, smiling and eating the last piece of his sandwich.

Grace smiled at him. "You're welcome, Sam."

"Hey," Sam said, pausing and then deciding to just go for it, "do you have a thing for Dean?"

Dean found his ears perking up as he listened, straightening up and shifting a little, Bobby wheeling down the hallway. He'd woken up and Grace was out of bed, so he was looking for her, and Dean was trying to hear what Grace was about to say. Bobby actually wanted to hear the answer too, looking at Dean and smiling a bit at the expectant look on his face—Dean cared about how Grace answered this…he cared a _lot_.

"I'd be lying if I didn't say I was fond of him." Grace replied smiling. "But before you read into it any, I'm kind of fond of you and Dad too."

Dean honestly couldn't understand why her words were affecting him the way that they were—he was hoping for a different answer. What that answer was, he didn't know, but he jumped a little when he heard Bobby behind him and he just smiled at him. Bobby smiled too, but it was because Bobby understood that look—Dean was becoming completely attached to Grace…but there was no way on God's green earth that he was going to admit it—not in a million years.

**Note: I hope that chapter was worth it, guys! I'm **_**really **_**enjoying writing this story, so I hope its still being well-received! Feedback is always appreciated!**


	7. Miss You Too

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Your feedback makes me super, **_**super**_** happy, and I'm **_**so**_** glad you guys like this story, so here is more of it.**

**WARNINGS: Language, Controversial Topics, Dark Themes, Sex, Violence, Blood**

**ENJOY!**

****

_**One Month Later**_

Grace and Bobby actually hadn't realized just _how_ much they enjoyed each other's company…or how much like her mother Grace really was. There were plenty of things that she had in common with Bobby, but mostly, she reminded him of her mother. She was headstrong, optimistic, and she had a passion for learning—and Bobby was _more_ than willing to let her take classes at the local community college.

Bobby understood Grace when she picked her classes—he understood that she _wanted_ to hunt and that the majority of her classes were online so she could keep up. The only class she had on the campus was math, and he was glad that she was so involved in school…so _willing_ to try and lead a normal life. She was still his little girl, and in getting to know her some more, he was beginning to become more and more protective of her, even though he knew to a certain extent that she could take care of herself.

Bobby pointed at Grace's phone. "It's ringing again, Gracie."

"Hi, Dean." Grace said happily, answering her phone and thus ignoring her math homework right then.

Every other day since he and Sam had taken off until she was fully healed, Dean had called Grace to make sure that she was remembering to change her bandages. Sam would just smile at his attempt to keep in contact with her because Dean _never_ tried that hard with anyone before—but he just waved it off and reminded Sam that he had made a _promise_ to Bobby, and he wanted Grace safe. Once he didn't need to call anymore about her wound, Dean came up with _other _excuses to phone her, and it made Grace smile. Grace didn't care _why_ he was calling—she was just happy to hear the voice she had grown so accustomed to over the last month, even if the reason he was calling now was just to 'check in to make sure the angels hadn't said anything important yet'.

"Hey, Grace." Dean replied, a smile on his face. "Just checking in on the angel front."

Grace grinned, knowing that Dean was simply calling to call, but he would never admit that, and she could never find it in her to tease him about it. She felt like if she tried to make the calls about her, then she was just being conceited—maybe he really _did_ just want her to keep him updated on what the angels had to say to her. Even so, Dean was on the phone, and Grace intended to make the conversation as long as possible.

"Cas showed a couple of times, but so far, no Thea contact, and Zach has kept his distance." Grace explained and then she turned so Bobby couldn't see her face. "How have the hunts been?"

Grace didn't know why, but she enjoyed to hear Dean tell her about all of the hunts that he and Sam had done, or even about the days they'd been having. Bobby was certain his daughter had a crush on the eldest Winchester, and it became even more apparent to him when she got up to continue the conversation in the other room. Then when they were done talking, they hung up and Grace acted like it was nothing. Still, Bobby knew Grace was worried and in a bad mood two days later when Dean hadn't called like he normally did…and then Bobby knew.

"You okay, Grace?" Emma Mosec asked her.

Emma was Grace's best friend, and she was the only person _not _a hunter that knew about hunting and accepted it in Grace's life. The blonde tucked her short waves behind her ears and looked at Grace, smiling a little because she knew that look—it had to do with a boy. Grace just shrugged her shoulders and checked her phone and then Emma nodded, laughing a little and shrugging when Grace shot her a look.

"Dean will call." Emma told her. "From what I've heard, he's totally into you, he just won't admit it—that doesn't mean he won't come up with some excuse to talk to you today, all right? Give him time."

Grace shrugged and then composed herself. "My mood has _nothing_ to do with Dean Winchester."

"Suuuure it doesn't." Emma replied and then she gave Grace a look when they walked out of the school building and Grace's whole face lit up.

She followed Grace's gaze the parked Impala, Dean leaning on it and smiling at her, wondering who the blonde was. Emma wasn't retarded enough to _not_ realize that the sandy-haired man by the hottest car of all time was Dean, and she knew how happy this was making Grace—he hadn't called, because he was there. Just so the two could have some privacy, Emma placed her hand on Grace's shoulder and Grace suddenly looked at her friend, her cheeks flushed.

"I'm heading home, um…don't do anything I wouldn't do." Emma said and with a wink and then a wave to Dean, Emma headed to her car and Grace walked towards Dean.

He shrugged as she neared him. "Sam and I found a hunt we thought you might like to be part of."

"Oh, really?" Grace asked him, smirking a bit.

"Yeah, really." Dean replied even though he knew it wasn't the full truth—he'd missed her…he just wasn't willing to admit it out loud. "How's the scar."

Grace smiled at him. "It's kind of cool, you wanna see?"

Dean smirked too and nodded, Grace lifting her shirt up just enough to show Dean the scar on her left side. He ran his finger along it, both of them feeling a little flushed about it, and then Grace put her shirt back down and Dean looked at her. They both made direct eye contact and Dean couldn't help but smile—for some reason Grace made him feel things he thought he'd lost…but how could he feel when he was dead inside? He wanted to understand that…and he wanted to be around her—talk to her, hunt with her…just be near her.

"Wanna go get some coffee?" Grace asked him.

Dean smiled and nodded. "Yeah…hop in, Grace."

**

"He's kind of driving me insane." Sam admitted to Bobby as they went over the research for the hunt Sam had found.

Bobby laughed a little. "Dean? Driving _you_ insane? Wow…I totally never in a million _years_ would have guessed that that _ever_ happened."

"Oh, ha, ha, Bobby." Sam replied, rolling his eyes.

Dean had pretty much dropped Sam off and then headed to go and pick up Grace from school. He didn't even have to ask Bobby where the school was, or ask him what school she went to—Dean Winchester had actually _listened_ to what Grace had to say when they talked to each other. Then he would spend the immediate twenty minutes _off_ the phone with her to tell Sam what the two of them had talked about and though at first Sam thought that it was cute, Sam was beginning to worry.

At first Dean had just denied, denied, _denied_ that he was interested at _all_, but then he realized that he couldn't stop thinking about her. So he made up excuses to call her, he actually _enjoyed_ talking to her, and soon Sam was noticing that every once in a while Dean would just smile, or laugh, and when asked about it, Dean would just shrug and say, "Something Grace said". Now? Now Dean was almost obsessed, and when given a choice of hunts, he chose to do the one closest to Grace—it gave him an excuse to go and see her.

"I just meant that I think you're going to have Dean asking out your daughter." Sam said with a small laugh. "Honestly, he can't stop talking about her—it's like the honeymoon phase in a relationship only they're not _in_ one."

Bobby smiled a little and then it faded—he got it, he did, but he wasn't so sure how he was feeling about it. Dean was already part of his family, and he knew that, and he thought that Grace and Dean _both_ deserved to be happy after _everything_ that they'd been through, but Bobby had _just_ gotten her back. He didn't _want_ to lose her to a boy yet…and definitely not to one that had a habit of not discussing what he needed to discuss, and Bobby didn't want either Grace _or_ Dean to get hurt because of that…because Grace had a habit of _running_ from her problems on top of that.

"Bobby are you okay?" Sam asked him.

_Grace hadn't looked at Bobby since the incident, and she hadn't spoken to him either, no matter how hard he tried. She didn't want to have anything to do with him, and she'd packed __**so**__ fast when Bobby told her his plan. It just seemed to him that he'd destroyed __**everything**__, and the best thing to do was to send her off to her aunt, Carrie. It wasn't like she wouldn't' get along with her cousin, Jeremy…and at least she didn't hate Carrie._

"_You sure about this, Bobby?" Carrie asked Bobby, stroking his cheek. "She's all you got left, you can't just leave her."_

_Bobby smiled sadly. "I can't keep her, Carrie. I want to but…after what she's seen she'll never forgive me."_

"_Bobby, you can't give up." Carrie pleaded, but nodded when a tear leaked out._

"_I know you'll take good care of her." Bobby said his voice cracking. "Just…make sure she knows I love her…even though she hates me."_

_Carrie nodded and hugged Bobby tightly. "I promise she'll know, Bobby."_

_Bobby nodded and pulled away heading to his car and taking one last look back to the window. Grace was looking out of it as Jeremy ran around in his cape, trying to get her to join in, but she was ignoring him. There were tears streaming down her face because she didn't want him to go, but she didn't want to stay with him either—he'd killed her mother and she couldn't forgive him for that._

"_I'm so sorry, Gracie, honey." Bobby said, and then he got in the car and took off for good._

Bobby didn't know why, but thinking about how much he wanted for her, always reminded him of the sacrifice he'd made giving her up. It was the best thing for her and he knew that, but he had lost so much and he _hated_ that there were so many years that he wasn't in her life. She had hated him _so_ much and now? Now he had a fresh start with her, and he just wanted what was _best_ for her, just like he always did.

"I'm fine Sam, really." Bobby said, waving it off. "So he kicked you to the curb so he could go and pick her up from school?"

Sam nodded at him. "Yeah. He was really excited about it too even though he wouldn't admit it, and I couldn't tell him he _couldn't_, you know? He's been beating himself up over what Famine told him and I just…I think it's good for him."

"Honestly? Me too." Bobby admitted with a nod. "That boy needs to understand that he isn't alone, and that no matter what some dick says, he has the ability to bounce back even after everything you boys have been put through."

"I think she can keep him in line." Sam said nodding. "If he steps out of line, she'll show him whose boss—hint: it's _not_ him."

Bobby laughed at that and nodded too, pointing out some of what he'd found to Sam to get his mind off of things. His main concern was Grace's and Dean's happiness and if they found that together, then they found that together. It didn't matter how many concerns that Bobby had…he wanted whatever made Grace happy, and if he had to intervene, than he'd intervene when the time to do so.

"You should call him and ask where he is." Bobby told Sam, wheeling to the fridge. "Want a beer, Son?"

Sam smiled at him. "A beer would be great."

Bobby nodded as Sam pulled out his phone, and Sam swallowed because when he flipped it open, he couldn't help but think about her. It had been a month, yeah, but he still had her number, and it wasn't like the two hadn't texted once more back and forth. Still…Sam had missed his chance there, hadn't he? Why would Miranda even want to talk to him right then?

"There's something else." Bobby said as he caught Sam looking at his phone, the beers in his lap.

Sam looked up at him and shook his head. "Nah, it's nothing."

"Son, if she makes you feel like more than a sick bastard who kills things for fun…call her." Bobby insisted, and Sam couldn't help but chuckle as he opened up the beer and took a sip, considering Bobby's words.

**

Grace sipped her Starbucks coffee as she and Dean walked down the sidewalk, and she smiled at him. Dean smiled back and sipped his black coffee, already having exhausted three of his jokes about Grace's White Chocolate Mocha. She tried to explain to him about the flavor, which had just led to a dirty joke after a dirty joke and then finally she'd just laughed and fallen silent.

Neither of them understood why it was so easy to just joke around with and talk to each other, but it was. Dean found himself wanting to open up even though he still wasn't sure if he should, and yet there was no harm. He'd been making up excuses to talk to her for a month and she seemed to enjoy his company so why not? It wouldn't hurt, would it?

"So I heard you and Sam that night…bonding about Lucifer." Dean told her.

Grace nodded at him. "Have you told Sam you trusted him, yet?"

"It's harder to say than you think it is." Dean said sighing, wishing he hadn't made their playful discussion dissipate already.

"Not really." Grace shook her head, sipping her coffee swiftly. "Just say, 'Sammy, I trust you'…really, Dean…how hard is that?"

Dean shook his head and just shrugged his shoulders because he didn't want to argue with her about it. Sure, it was easy enough to tell him that he trusted him with his life…but Dean _didn't_ trust Sam with the choice between being himself, and having demon blood in his system…he didn't know how. Someday he was sure that he would know, but right then Dean was still in kind of a funk as far as _that_ conversation was concerned.

"Okay, Dean, look." Grace told him, stopping on the sidewalk and turning to him. "Sam loves you—you're his big brother—you just have to be more _vocal_ about it all, all right? He can't just assume he knows what you're thinking forever…he just can't."

Dean smiled a little and looked Grace in the eye. "I hate that you always seem to know the right way to say things…you're annoying."

"It's all part of my charm." Grace said, tossing her hair off of her shoulders playfully.

"I can agree to that." Dean told her nodding, turning to continue walking.

Grace paused a moment when he said it and then hurried to walk with him, keeping step with him and then stopping again and tossing her empty coffee cup away. Dean stopped too and looked at her, raising his eyebrows because he didn't understand _why_ she was stopping. Both of them just kind of looked at each other and then Grace looked at the ground and bit her lip, which made Dean shift uncomfortably.

She looked up slowly first, then she took a step closer to him and he looked at her, wondering what in the world was going on. He leaned down a little so they were closer and then as he tried to piece it all together, she spoke. Dean hadn't been expecting it, but nonetheless Grace seemed to be the one that surprised him all the time anyway…why not do one _more_ thing that he didn't suspect?

"I bet you're even more awesome all opened up, Dean." Grace told him, smiling and shrugging, stepping on the balls of her feet to lift herself up a little. "Just think about talking to him?"

Dean nodded slowly, their eyes still locked. "I'll think about it."

"Good…so why did you call so much?" Grace asked him and then shook her head when he opened his mouth up to speak. "Tell me the truth, Dean—I had like the same thing to say over and over again about how I was healing, and about how the angels aren't really in contact with me right now."

"I wanted to make sure you were all settled in." Dean shrugged and sighed. "What?"

Grace laughed a little. "You're so full of it."

"I am not." Dean said, giving her a look and then he was caught off guard because there was no longer distance between them.

Grace rolled her eyes when he retorted and closed the rest of the space between them by leaning up and pressing her lips to his. They were soft, with a hint of chapstick on them, and Dean was so surprised that he didn't respond right away, and the moment he realized how badly he wanted to kiss her back, she had pulled back and blushed. She'd been so _certain_ that Dean had developed the same crush, but him not kissing her back was proving her wrong and suddenly she remembered why she was never forward like this romantically…because she always put herself out there and then didn't always get what she wanted or needed in return.

"Sorry." Grace breathed, Dean shaking his head. "I just assumed that all of the making up excuses—"

"—Grace…" Dean said softly.

"—and you picking me up at school without Sam—"

"—Grace…"

"—and all surprising me, was some kind of hint."

"Grace…"

"I shouldn't have been reading into it, and I'm sor—"

Dean dropped his coffee cup and leaned down to capture her lips with his, his whole body relaxing in relief when she relaxed and kissed him back. At first it was just kind of soft, but then Grace slid her fingers into his hair and then slid her other arm around him, pulling him closer to her. She smiled a little into the kiss as he pulled her closer too, cupping her face and then stroking her hair softly. He didn't really get what the feeling in his stomach was—he hadn't really been feeling much of anything lately, and it was almost like he remembered that sometimes things felt _good_.

"You wasted some perfectly good coffee." Grace whispered to him.

Dean rolled his eyes and continued to kiss her. "I think _someone_ needs to learn how to stop bantering for just a second."

"Okay…one Mississippi." Grace whispered and then she and Dean both laughed and she kissed him softly when he looked her in the eye. "Sorry, I just really couldn't resist."

"I don't know why I like 'em quirky, honestly." Dean teased, and then he ran his thumb along her bottom lip and motioned to the car, Grace nodding at him.

**Note: I got all fluffy on you guys…I think that for those of you that read most of my stuff, that should alert you that next chapter is **_**ANGSTY**_**…so…be prepared. Feedback is always appreciated!**


	8. Proving Lucifer's Point

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**All right, so this chapter is important…just a warning.**

**WARNINGS: Language, Controversial Topics, Dark Themes, Sex, Violence, Blood**

**ENJOY!**

****

"So this hunt…what exactly is it?" Grace asked Dean, pushing her bangs out of her face.

Dean chuckled and shrugged. "It's a couple of killings and Bobby thinks something is up, so we decided to team up with him."

"Oh, so basically the three of you came up with a hunt to follow and then left me in the dark?" Grace asked him, Dean glancing at her and catching the slight smile, so he knew she wasn't upset. "Going back to college was just as much my plan as it was Dad's…he's trying to protect me."

"Can you blame him?" Dean asked her.

Grace shook her head. "No…I actually kind of like that he watches over me as much as he does…I know he trusts me."

Dean smiled as he parked the car, and then he and Grace got out, Grace heading to the door and then stopping. She bit her lip momentarily and then turned to Dean, both of them trying to figure out what it was they wanted to say and how they wanted to say it. He watched as she just shook her head and shrugged it off, laughing and going into the house, into the room Bobby spent most of his time in—with his books.

Bobby thought that he was the most useful when he was finding out information on demons. He couldn't fight, and besides making sure that Grace was all right, Bobby felt like he was useless, and he didn't know what to do with himself. Grace kissed his cheek and then sat on his lap, pulling a paper out of her book bag and showing her father with a grin on her face.

"I aced my math test three days ago." Grace informed him, smiling at the pride on Bobby's face. "Once this class is over, I'm totally _never_ taking math again."

Bobby kissed her forehead. "I'm proud, Gracie."

"Me too, so…what is this hunt, Dad?" Grace asked him.

"Sam and I have mapped out where the demon has been attacking, and we figured out where the next one will happen." Bobby explained to her. "Now if you _want_ to help Sam and Dean out…you can go with them."

Grace nodded and hugged her father, kissing his cheek. "I want to help, but I promise I'll be more careful than I was last time."

"Good." Bobby told her, stroking her hair softly as she got off his lap. "So here are the coordinates and I don't want anyone coming home bleeding or maimed."

Grace nodded and told him she wanted to get ready first, so Bobby let her head off to her room, catching the smile between Grace and Dean. It was a different smile than the ones that they had shared in the past, and Bobby swallowed because he didn't know if he wanted to bring it up or not. He had just caught looks between them, it didn't necessarily _mean_ anything…and he knew he shouldn't get worked up over it—if they wanted to be together and they treated each other well, then Bobby had nothing to worry about.

"So was she surprised?" Sam asked Dean as Dean turned to them after watching Grace walk away.

Dean composed himself and nodded. "Yeah—she even convinced me to get some coffee."

"That girl likes her coffee." Bobby informed Dean with a smile. "What exactly is going on between you two, Boy?"

"Nothing." Dean said with a shrug.

Dean didn't even feel like he was lying—somehow they'd gone from what seemed like a meaningful kiss, to talking about a hunt. He and Grace hadn't discussed what it was that was _possibly_ between them, and so Dean didn't know what to say to Bobby. In fact, Dean wasn't even sure if he'd be able to talk to Bobby about dating his daughter if things between him and Grace got deeper…if their relationship became more physical.

"My phone is on vibrate and I'm ready now." Grace said as she bounded into the room, pulling her hair back into a ponytail and blowing her bangs out of her face. "Are we going, or are we going to sit around talking about our feelings or something?"

Bobby laughed and beamed. "I'm glad to see that when other people are around, I've rubbed off on you—how come you're so forth coming with them in the room, but you're never this cheeky with just me?"

"Are we going to go?" Grace asked quickly, her cheeks flushing.

"Yeah, we're going." Dean told her, pulling out his keys and heading for the door.

Grace kissed her father's cheek and decided then and there to tone it down a bit because she _knew_ she was overdoing it. It was just that she felt like she needed to be more assertive, and that if she was more confident, Sam and Dean would maybe someday ask her to hunt with them…maybe? As much as she loved being with her father, Grace was restless…that and she wanted to meet the Thea problem head on.

**

Grace smiled a little in the backseat of the Impala as she thought about coffee that afternoon, and then focused on the hunt when she realized she was distracting herself, heading to the basement they were led to right off the bat after Dean parked. No one had been in the house for months, but there was definitely an altar, and Grace was starting to freak out a little bit—she recognized the symbols. She understood what was going on here, and at the same time she didn't…she was just…this _wasn't_ good.

"I know this…" Grace said softly, lowering her gun and swallowing.

Sam raised his eyebrows. "You recognize this?"

"It's little Grace all grown up." A female voice sounded and Sam, Dean and Grace turned to her.

There was a redhead in front of them that was being possessed by a demon and Grace swallowed. This demon _knew_ her, and Grace was trying to pinpoint exactly _where_ she knew this demon from…where she knew these _symbols _from. Dean and Sam both raised their guns at the demon as she smiled, his eyes going black and Grace closing her eyes.

If the demon made a sudden movement, then the Colt-like bullets in their guns would protect them, but Grace needed to think. There was a connection here and Grace knew that if she could just _remember_ then they wouldn't need to resort to that kind of violence. Instead, they could simply exorcise the demon, and save the girl that the demon was possessing like a good hunter should.

"Its been years, Grace," The demon continued, looking her up and down, "you were so much younger back then…tears in your eyes…"

Grace's eyes shot open and suddenly it all came flooding black to her and Grace found the tears coming back. They were stinging her eyes as she looked at the demon, in a different suit but definitely the same demon. How did she get out of Hell?! Why was it that _she_ was alive, but Grace's mother _wasn't_?!

"_Grace?" Jeremy asked softly._

_Grace struggled in her sleep and her whole body moved violently, Jeremy crawling onto her bed and pushing on her shoulder a little. All she could see was her father crying as he killed her mother…her father holding her back and not letting her go to her mother's rescue. There wasn't anything she could do—she couldn't __**save**__ her…why did that have to happen? Why was it Grace didn't deserve to have a mother?_

"_Grace?" Jeremy asked again, shaking his cousin a little harder._

_Ever since Bobby had dropped her off, Grace had been having nightmares about the demon…about what she had witnessed. The demon had taunted Bobby—found it sport—and Bobby didn't understand then that he had a choice and it had all just happened. It was the driving point to hurl the man into hunting, and it was the only thing that Grace found herself able to think about._

_Carrie wanted her to go and see a psychiatrist, but at the same time she understood and she didn't want Bobby in trouble. She knew that eventually Bobby was going to have to become a hunter because Thea had told her that it had to happen that way, but this wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Now Grace was scared, and if everything wasn't done __**perfectly**__, she would never live up to her part of her destiny._

"_Mommy!" Grace cried out, bolting up in bed._

_She looked around frantically and then her eyes fell on Jeremy, all of the sadness flooding her senses. Grace missed her father. She missed his embrace, his smell, his beard tickling her when he kissed her cheek—Grace wanted him back but she couldn't look at him. Why did her mother have to die? What was the black eyed woman? Why couldn't Bobby have found a way around murder?_

"_Grace, are you okay?" Jeremy asked her, scared for her._

_Grace shook her head. "I want my Mommy."_

"_You can share __**my**__ Mommy." Jeremy offered, knowing that it wasn't the same._

"_Jer, I just want my Mommy." Grace told him crying. "I want her back."_

"What are you doing here?" Grace asked her as strongly as she could. "_Why_ are you here?"

The demon laughed. "Isn't it obvious, Grace? I'm here to do my fair share of havoc-wreaking. It's the _apocalypse_."

"You're _done_ wreaking havoc." Grace said as some tears spilled down her cheeks, raising her gun at the demon. "Fuck you."

"Grace, calm down." Sam said, reaching over and setting his hand on her gun, ready to push it down. "What's going on here?"

Grace pulled away from Sam. "She killed my mother!"

"Your _father_ killed your mother." The demon taunted.

Sam and Dean both scooted closer to Grace as the gun clicked and Dean started shaking his head, the demon just laughing. There was no way that Sam and Dean were going to let Grace just kill the demon in cold blood, and Grace was starting to get pissed that the demon still existed. Why was she standing there? Why was she taunting Grace like this? What was the purpose? What was going on?

"Why did you do it?" Grace asked the demon, trying to dodge Sam and Dean.

The demon held up her hand and Sam and Dean flew up against the far wall. "Boys, it's time for the girls to have a little talk."

"ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION!" Grace yelled, her finger pressing on the trigger but not pulling it completely yet.

"Honestly?" The demon asked her and then she shrugged. "It was fun."

Grace couldn't even describe how much pain she was in on the inside—her mother had died because a demon was _bored_. She had to come into the room and see her _father_ _murder_ her _mother_ because a demon was _bored_. Her mother's face twisted in pain, her father's broken expression, the unexplainable anger and fear in Grace's stomach—all of it was simply because a demon thought it would be a good time.

She had to grow up without her Mom—she had to carry around the memory of her mother bleeding out because her father was protecting her. Grace spent _years_ hating her father: hating him for killing her mother, hating him for leaving her…hating him for _everything_. In the back of her mind she had always thought that there was some _reason_…that her mother was possessed because of some _plan_…but that didn't seem to be the case here…and Grace was _angry_.

"Watching people in pain is _fun_ for you?" Grace asked the demon angrily.

Dean shook his head, struggling against the demon's powers and failing. "Grace, don't listen to her—don't cave, Grace. You're stronger than this."

"I'm not." Grace said sadly, shaking her head.

"No…you're not." The demon replied. "He picked you, Grace…and sooner or later you're going to show _everyone_, exactly why."

Grace knew that the demon was referring to Lucifer, and she knew that her next choice was just proving the demon's point but Grace was in _pain_. All she could think about was her mother's last words to her, "You'll always find your way, Gracie"…but Grace had never been able to feel like she fulfilled that. Now she was almost spitting on her mother's memory, but when the demon laughed again Grace couldn't control herself.

"I _hate_ you." Grace said, and she pulled the trigger as Sam and Dean yelled at her not too, the bullet going into the demon's head…Grace effectively killing the demon _and_ the body the demon had been inhabiting.

**

Bobby hadn't really said anything when the boys came back with Grace and she shut herself into her room. As soon as the boys explained that the demon had been the same one that had possessed his wife, Bobby had simply nodded. Sam had explained everything because Dean was having trouble coping with what happened and he knew he didn't have _any_ right to be upset.

Even Bobby didn't seem to care so much that the demon was dead…even though he was remorseful that the redhead being possessed had been killed too. He understood that Grace was in a lot of physical and emotional pain, having just confronted the reason that her mother was dead and not having _any_ closure. She was going to have to cope with killing an innocent girl in cold blood, and Bobby didn't know how she was going to come out of this.

"Is there something we can do for you, Bobby?" Sam asked him.

Dean nodded at him. "Sam and I are here for you and Grace."

Bobby just nodded at them and wheeled towards his room, Sam and Dean sighing loudly and feeling helpless. This was something that _Bobby_ and _Grace_ had to deal with, and neither Sam nor Dean had _any_ idea how to try and help them to cope. Dean ran his hand down his face and he looked at Sam, shaking his head and then taking a deep breath because it was as good a time as any.

"You could have snapped back there…and you didn't." Dean told him.

Sam nodded slowly. "That's what you're worried about? Me snapping?"

"You could have had some blood and killed the demon…saving the girl." Dean explained and then he shook his head. "Sam, I'm still weary about that part of you…but you're my brother…and I have your back."

"Well…you need to have Grace's back." Sam told him and laughed a little when Dean gave him a look. "You two have a connection and you both care about each other and she's distressed right now. She needs _someone_, and Bobby isn't in the mood to comfort her and though I consider her my friend, you're closer to her."

Dean shook his head slowly. "I don't think I can just go in there and not get upset. She made a rash decision and cost a girl her life."

"I did it with Casey." Sam reminded him and then he shrugged a little and shook his head. "She had to watch her mother get murdered because of demon sport, Dean…we can't judge her for this."

Dean knew that Sam was right, and yet he didn't understand why he was so upset inside about all of this. He didn't get why he cared so much about the choices that Grace made, and he didn't understand why he felt the need to start pushing her away. Then it clicked as he reached out and touched the doorknob to her room that he was attached to her—that he cared—that that meant that the closer he got to her, the more danger he was putting her in, and he _knew_ he couldn't handle it if she died on him some day.

"Sammy…" Dean said softly.

Sam nodded and then shrugged his shoulders at the pain in Dean's voice. "Don't run from it, Dean. Just face it."

"This is a bad decision." Dean breathed out and though he knew Sam heard it, he didn't really care.

Sam pulled out his phone to call Miranda, and Dean stepped into Grace's dark room, closing the door behind him and running his hand down his face. Grace looked over at the door and knew it was Dean, sniffling a little and immediately pressing her body into his as he laid down next to her on the bed and pulled her back close to him. She bit her lip so she couldn't sob at all, and Dean stroked her hair softly, kissing her head and then running his thumb along her wet cheek to try and brush off some of the tears.

He never really thought of himself as the comforting type, but it came easily to him right then because he wanted her safe…wanted her happy. Dean held Grace tightly and nodded as she turned over in his arms and buried her face in his chest. She knew he couldn't understand what she was going through, but at the same time she knew that Dean Winchester of all people understood loss…understood pain…she just felt like everything had been so wonderful and now…now everything was broken.

"The worst part is I don't feel bad about it." Grace said her voice breaking as her lip trembled. "I don't feel bad about killing the demon at all…but I should…I killed some helpless girl in the process just because I was in pain."

Dean held her a little tighter. "Just sleep, Grace…I'll still be here in the morning."

**Note: The next chapter is kind of…emotional, I guess. There is a **_**lot **_**of 'caring and sharing' but not really in the way that you might be expecting. Expect **_**lots **_**of talking and bonding and budding relationships, I guess. Feedback is always appreciated!**


	9. The Calm Before the Storm

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**This chapter focuses on Sammy, but it has a defining moment for Grace and Dean at the same time.**

**WARNINGS: Language, Controversial Topics, Dark Themes, Sex, Violence, Blood**

**ENJOY!**

****

Sam had been feeling jumpy ever since he'd called Miranda and asked her what she was up to that night. She'd seemed happy enough to meet Sam at the bar that they'd met in before, and Sam didn't understand why he was feeling so nervous. He'd just felt like he could open up to Miranda, and he'd actually _enjoyed_ his time with her and he wanted to explain things.

Of course he knew that there was no way he could explain things in terms of hunting and in terms of demon blood, but Sam _needed_ to talk to her. She'd been so friendly and she'd seemed _honestly_ interested in him and in his problems, and Sam felt like he'd been rude to her before and he needed to make it up to her. Sam felt like he needed to take what Bobby had said to heart: he felt like he needed to stop closing himself off.

Just thinking about that made him think about Dean—Dean who no matter what, had a habit of ignoring everything and pushing his problems aside. Sam didn't like bottling everything up inside and yet he hadn't had a true outlet in _ages_…he hadn't had anyone to actually talk to. Now he had Grace, who kept making it perfectly clear to him that he could talk to her about _anything_ and he knew he could—she understood, and she never judged him.

"Sam?" Miranda asked him as she came up to the bar.

Sam's thoughts were interrupted by her voice and he looked up, smiling at her as her blonde waves framed her face. She was wearing her hair straighter than she had the first time they had met and her hair was darker, but she was still the beautiful Miranda that he had met before. Miranda smiled as Sam beamed and then she took a seat next to him at the bar and ordered two shots—it hadn't even been a hard day, she was just kind of nervous about what was going on here.

Miranda had been _waiting_ for Sam to call her, and when he never did she had completely given up on the idea. Well, she had _thought _about completely giving up, but the fact that she was so excited to hear from him had made her realize that she _wanted_ to see Sam again. So she'd jumped at the chance to meet up with him, while at the same time not knowing what was coming next and needing to be prepared for _anything_.

"I was surprised you wanted to show." Sam told her, shrugging.

Miranda smiled and downed the shots. "Well, at first I thought about _not_ coming, but I wanted to see you again. Wanna get out of here?"

"Out of here?" Sam asked her nervously.

Sam hadn't been looking for a booty call, but that was the first thought that ran across his mind: he thought that Miranda thought Sam wanted to get laid. Miranda wasn't thinking any such thing, she just realized Sam was as nervous as she was and she didn't much feel like playing pool—not that any pool tables were even open. She just wanted to get out into the fresh air and she wanted to get to know Sam better.

"I need some fresh air and I figured maybe you'd want to come with me?" Miranda asked him, blushing a little as she came to understand what it was that Sam was thinking. "Unless you had something else in mind? I mean you _were_ the one to call me so…what did you have in mind, Sam?"

Sam swallowed and then smiled. "Let's go get that fresh air."

"Perfect." Miranda said with a smile.

She led Sam out of the bar and they got into her car, Miranda driving them to a park that was close. Miranda came to the park when she needed to think, or even when she just felt the need to be outside someplace peaceful. It was dark out so they were alone, and Sam sat next to her on the bench, watching her zip up her coat and smile a little as she watched her breath in front of her for a moment.

"How are you, Sam?" Miranda asked him.

Sam hadn't been asked that question in quite a while, and he didn't know how to answer it without spilling all of his secrets. He knew he couldn't tell her anything about his _real_ life—at least not where hunting was concerned, or he'd never see her again…but he had to tell her _something_. Miranda smiled softly at him and genuinely looked interested in what he had to say, so Sam decided to take the chance because he felt like he needed to…she made him feel like more than a 'sick bastard who killed things for fun'.

"My brother and I are learning how to trust again—it's why I didn't call you." Sam explained to her, continuing as she opened her mouth to speak. "I _wanted_ to, but I was trying to devote time to him because we've both been pretty broken lately. I have some baggage and I didn't want to involve you, but honestly, I can't stop thinking about you, Miranda. I just…I was having a bad day and even though we really don't know anything about each other, I wanted to see you again."

Miranda smiled at him and nodded. "Okay, I believe you but…_how are you_, _Sam_?"

Sam smiled at her because he hadn't answered her question and she honestly wanted to know. There was something different about Miranda and Sam couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he knew that she was definitely being honest with him. She wasn't looking for a fun night, or for any sex or drunken fun, she just honestly wanted to be his friend. Suddenly Sam felt like he knew how Dean felt about Grace because both Grace and Miranda had one _very_ distinct trait in common—they were _genuinely_ friendly…they _genuinely_ cared about others…and Sam _missed_ that.

"I'm doing better now that I'm talking to you." Sam admitted with a nod.

Miranda laughed a little and nodded too. "That's a start, Sam."

**

Dean had a restless night at first because he was thinking about everything that had happened with Grace and the demon. He wasn't upset that Grace had killed someone—even though she was going to have to cope with that—he was upset about _how_ she had done it. Sam had done it before with Casey and the Priest being possessed by the demon, and Dean himself had done it a few times as well…_that_ was why he was upset.

He knew that upon just hearing that, it didn't make _any_ sense at all, but Dean knew that to him it did. Dean had spent his _whole life_ trying to find and kill the demon that had killed his mother out of _revenge_—in fact all of the Winchesters had found that burning desire to kill Azazel a driving factor in hunting. The thing of the matter was though, that Dean also found himself hunting as an outlet…he found himself blurring the lines of hunting just because he was upset—he didn't want that to happen for Grace.

When they'd first met, Grace was this happy, optimistic young woman who was able to handle her past…now Dean was torn. He'd been opening up to this beautiful woman and he'd been so envious and proud of what she was and Dean was suddenly afraid that hunting was going to turn her like it had turned him—like it had _corrupted everyone_ that he knew. Dean just didn't want Grace to end up the hunter that she was going to have to be to do this job—the hunter that every hunter ended up becoming.

He was aware that sooner or later Grace was going to have to face all of this because she was part of it, and he _hated_ the thought. For some reason Dean felt like he wanted her to have the innocence of normalcy even though he knew that she had lost the ability to keep that innocence the day she saw Bobby killing his wife to protect his daughter. Why Dean even cared so much about it all, was just adding to everything else that was eating away at him and sending him into a restless sleep.

"Dean, just pull yourself together." Dean breathed out that morning, thinking over what he had thought about the night before.

Sam hadn't come in after he'd taken off, and after Grace had fallen asleep, Dean had left her side only long enough to eat something, and then he'd come right back. He held her all night long and thought about things, and had come to the conclusion that in order to keep her safe, he had to keep her close…but he also had to keep her far away from him and that was going to be hard for him. The idea of keeping her close professionally and keeping her far away emotionally just seemed daunting.

The old Dean could have done that in his sleep, but this new Dean was too attracted to the idea of _feeling_ something. He had begun to feel things with Grace and after everything he'd been through with Famine, Dean wanted to prove to himself that he _could_ feel—he wanted to prove to everyone that Famine had actually been _wrong_. Just the fact that Dean had started to feel things with Grace, was proving to Dean that he _wasn't_ dead inside…but was he _really_ feeling?

"You really did stay all night." Grace said sleepily, yawning as Dean looked at her and smiled. "I appreciate it."

Dean nodded and stroked her hair. "I told you I would be."

"Yes, you did, and you seem to be a man of your word." Grace replied, scooting closer to him on the bed and smiling when he opened his arms up to her and held her, letting her nuzzle her face into his chest. "Are we okay, Dean?"

"Why wouldn't we be?" Dean asked her shrugging.

The words had simply come out of his mouth, but they had and he knew that there was no taking them back now. Grace was still pretty distraught about what she had done the night before, and Dean knew that she could read him well enough to know that he had been upset with her. Thinking about it as much as he had, he realized that thought at first he thought he was upset with her, he was just upset about what could potentially happen _to_ her—he was worried _about_ her.

"You just seem pretty unhappy about what went down last night, and I really don't blame you." Grace replied, looking up at him.

Dean looked at her and their eyes met, Dean not wanting to talk about anything, be that unhealthy or not. So he just shook his head softly and then kissed her, letting the feeling of kissing her sink in, kissing her back a little harder when she responded to him, returning his kiss. He pulled her close and they both resituated a little, lying on their sides, Dean cupping Grace's face and teasing the corners of her mouth with his tongue.

She opened up automatically, pressing her body firmly against Dean's, Dean slipping his tongue in and moaning ever so softly. It felt like ages since he'd been this close to a woman, and though he knew it _hadn't_ been as long as he felt like it had been, Dean wanted to be close to her. Grace was the first person in a _long_ time, that Dean felt like he wanted to share all of his secrets with, and he wanted to feel…he wanted to feel like he had back in the lighter hunting days when hooking up with a girl made him feel like he was still holding onto something normal even though he couldn't have that normal forever.

"Okay, I get it," Grace said playfully, smiling as Dean placed kisses on her jaw line and then her neck, "we're _totally_ okay."

Dean chuckled and then ran his fingers along her pajama pants, slipping his finger under the waistband and pausing. He half expected Grace to stop or push him off of her, but she kept her body right where it was and suddenly Dean started to feel sick to his stomach. It wasn't even Grace—he was _definitely_ attracted to Grace—it was just that she was Bobby's daughter, and she had just gone through something terrible. So what, now he was just going to take advantage of her after she had to face the demon that was responsible for her mother's death?

In the past Dean wouldn't have even thought twice about it, but for some reason suddenly, it was all he _could_ think about. He'd never even cared before if he took advantage of a woman like this—if she wanted to be serviced and he wanted to service her, he always looked at it as a win-win situation, but not then. Grace _meant_ something to him—she _had_ to other wise this would have been _easy_ for him.

"Dean?" Grace asked softly.

His whole body had paused and she knew he was thinking and she was blushing like crazy and she knew it. She didn't think of herself as the kind of girl to just sleep with a guy she barely knew, but she wanted this. Grace was attracted to Dean and she was entertaining the idea that being with him like this when he wanted it too, would make _both_ of them feel better…but it was a bandaid. It was a bandaid and she had thought about stopping what they were doing but what if Dean really _did_ need this?

"It's just a bandaid." Dean told her, getting up and heading for her door. "Damn-it, I'm sorry, Grace."

He was out of the door before she could apologize herself and tell him it wasn't his fault and she bit her lip. Suddenly it was all feeling so rushed to her and she wished that she hadn't put Dean in this kind of situation—she felt like it was all her fault. Dean needed to feel better and so did she, but sex wasn't the answer and they both knew it. There was something deeper though…something that Grace didn't understand about his actions but she _wanted_ to understand—she wanted to be there for Dean like he had been there for her the night before.

**

Bobby looked up at Dean when Dean came into the kitchen and he sipped his coffee slowly, watching Dean's every move. He had been reading the paper that morning, very aware that Dean had spent the night in Grace's room with her and Bobby wasn't feeling as torn as he had been. Grace was a big girl and she made her own decisions and though Bobby wanted to look out for _both_ Grace and Dean, he knew he trusted and love them both and if being together was their choice, then he was going to accept that choice.

"Morning." Dean managed, pouring himself some coffee. "I think Grace is fine."

Bobby nodded slowly. "Thank you for taking care of her last night."

"No problem." Dean said, sipping the coffee, his eyes focused on nothing in particular as he started to think again.

"You care about her." Bobby told Dean, shaking his head when Dean shot him a look. "Don't play dumb with me, Boy, I'm not an idjit. The looks between you two are unmistakable and I'm trying to let you know I'm okay with it without getting all deep about it."

Dean smiled a little. "All right, Bobby."

Dean didn't want to admit it because as much as he wanted to feel, Dean didn't want Grace to get killed. If there was a feeling that Dean _knew_ he had, it was pain…and guilt. He was _never_ going to forgive himself for the lives that had been lost that were his fault, and he didn't want Grace to end up on that list. Talking to Bobby about all of this seemed all well and good, but Dean didn't want to get mushy about it—he didn't want to sit around and talk about his feelings when those talks never ended well.

"If you're not willing to let her all the way in, Son…don't do this to her." Bobby said suddenly, feeling like he couldn't keep it in anymore. "I hate that you have so much on your mind that you blame yourself for, but don't punish Grace for that."

Dean sipped his coffee and then looked at Bobby sadly. "I don't know what to do anymore, Bobby. I'm really fond of Grace, but I don't want to get her killed and let's face it: everyone around me dies."

"So far I ain't pushin' up daisies." Bobby replied and then cut Dean off when Dean opened his mouth up to speak again. "Stop being so hard on yourself, Dean—this job ends in casualties but that don't mean we should ignore the ones that we love and trust, all right? We can't carry _all_ of our burdens alone—that's how we get ourselves killed."

"I can't ask anyone to share my burdens with me." Dean said firmly.

Bobby shook his head sadly, realizing that Dean wasn't getting the point as Sam walked into the living room. He and Miranda had talked _all_ night long, and he was feeling pretty good about himself, even when he saw Grace lying on the couch watching a soap opera on TV. Sam chuckled a little at how like Dean that was for her, but honestly Sam found that he got along with Grace because most of her traits were shared with Sam—they had a _lot_ in common. It was nice though that Grace had things in common with Dean…it was part of why Sam was beginning to believe that the two were meant for each other.

"You look happy." Grace said, smiling up at Sam. "Good night, I take it?"

Sam smiled at Grace and sat down next to her. "Miranda and I just talked…how are you holding up?"

"I think I'm all right." Grace told him shrugging. "I'm glad you got to go out and flirt with a girl, Sam."

"I _have_ kind of missed this feeling." Sam admitted nodding and grinning. "That feeling that you can just talk to someone and though you want to cuddle them or kiss them, you know you're content just being _with_ them…you know?"

Grace nodded slowly. "Yeah…I've known that feeling. Honestly, though? I think it's people like that, that you have to hold onto. You seeing her again?"

"She told me she'd call me tonight to let me know what her schedule looks like for the next few weeks, so I'm hoping so." Sam admitted happily.

Grace smiled at him and nodded, wishing that she was feeling as happy right then as Sam was, even though she wasn't. She still felt guilty about killing the girl and she was blaming herself for Dean running out—bandaid excuse or not. Dean _hadn't_ run out because of her, but Grace felt like she was pushing him into things and she was upset with herself for initiating all of this when Dean _clearly_ wasn't looking for a relationship—he was still coping about things and Grace felt like she should have been more perceptive of that.

"I think I need to take a walk." Grace told Sam, handing him the remote. "Dad and Dean are in the kitchen if you need or want them."

With that Grace had grabbed her jacket and headed out the door, going to the park down the street and sitting on the bench. She watched as some kids played on the monkey bars, shaking her head at foolish she was being. Why wasn't she thinking more clearly? Why wasn't she being more attune with the people around her like she used to be so at doing? Why was she so into Dean already when there was still so much about him that she didn't even know or understand?

She knew she wasn't _in love_ with him or anything _that_ drastic, but she knew that she cared deeply for him already. Grace knew that she wanted Dean happy and safe, and she knew that she wanted to protect him—to help to share his burdens because she didn't think he should have to carry all of them on his own. All she knew was that she wanted to make Dean Winchester's life a little easier, but all she seemed to be doing right then was causing him pain and she needed to back off of him and let him breathe.

"I wish I knew what to do." Grace told herself softly.

"Hello, Grace." A female voice said.

Grace turned to see a young woman sitting on the bench next to her and she made a face, but then she just smiled. She knew she didn't recognize the woman, but the woman recognized her and that meant that it was either another demon taunting her, or just someone else who wanted to talk to her. Whomever this person was, Grace knew she needed to give them her attention, and if she needed to, she would get away and deal with this with Bobby.

"And who are you?" Grace asked the woman cautiously.

The woman simply smiled at her. "I'm Thea."

**Note: Well, well, well…a cliffy from me. I apologize, but it had to be done and I think you'll understand next chapter as to why. Also, all of the Sam and Dean internalizing is really important to the story and the next chapter has a Sam/Dean talk because it is **_**so **_**overdue so if you're coming back for anything, come back for that. =P I know that **_**some **_**of you have found one of the main conflicts in the plot, and I hope you know I'll definitely be coming back to it quite a few times. Feedback is always appreciated!**


	10. Letting it All Out

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Your feedback keeps me going, so thank you **_**so**_** much!**

**This chapter has important conversations, so pay attention!**

**WARNINGS: Language, Controversial Topics, Dark Themes, Sex, Violence, Blood**

**ENJOY!**

****

While Grace was off taking her walk, Sam headed into the kitchen to talk to Dean and smiled at Bobby as Bobby wheeled out of the room. Bobby had said everything to Dean that he could think of right then, and he decided that it was time to go ahead and get Grace some closure—some answers. It couldn't be that her mother and her aunt kept _everything_ from her and Jeremy…Jeremy _had_ to know something, and if he _did_, then Bobby wanted Jeremy to take to Grace about it.

Sam simply wanted to talk to Dean about what was going on with him because he was tired of keeping things all bottled up inside of him. He thought that the healthiest thing to do was talk to Dean about how he was feeling, even if Dean didn't want to—and Grace and Miranda agreed with that. Dean looked at his brother and had a pretty good idea of what was coming and he just sighed and drank his coffee because Dean didn't want to deal with all of this, but he knew he'd have to talk about it eventually.

"What's on your mind, Sammy?" Dean asked him, setting his cup of coffee on the table and looking at him. "You have that look on your face."

Sam nodded and smiled a little. "I figure I should just lay all of it out there and then we're having this out, Dean."

"I guess that's fair." Dean said nodding wanting to know what exactly was going on with Sam.

They both knew that they needed to talk about everything that had happened—especially recently—and though it was going to be hard, it had to be done. Sam knew he'd have to start them off, so he ran his fingers through his hair momentarily, and took a deep breath, trying to figure out where to start. He decided that it was best to lay it all out there and to just make sure that Dean was even going to be one hundred percent receptive to it all...Sam had to try because he wanted his brother back.

"All the loss and the pain that you're going through over Ellen and Jo and everyone else we've lost, Dean—I feel it too." Sam explained, shaking his head. "Honestly though? I don't think that's our main problem…I don't think that's _my_ main problem."

Dean nodded slowly. "I don't think it's our main problem either."

"Dean, I was _so_ hungry…you saw how bad it was for me, Dean—I mean you had to handcuff me." Sam said softly, and Dean knew he was ashamed of all it. "You heard Cas: he said that everyone was starving for _something_, and I _knew_ that I needed to be restrained and you _knew_ that I was trying to stay away from it."

"Yeah, and I've been proud of you, Sammy." Dean replied, looking up to make eye contact with his brother.

Sam nodded sadly. "Yeah…but you know something, Dean? Part of me _wanted_ the demon blood even _without_ the hunger, and it's that part of me that scares me sometimes, you know? I had so much _power_ when I was on the stuff, and I know it's just a drug, but Dean…Dean I felt like I was strong again—I felt like I was your equal."

Dean nodded and he looked at the countertop as Sam paused and took a breath. It felt good to get it all off of his chest and explain things, but he wasn't sure exactly how Dean was taking all of it—what Dean thought about what he was laying out there. Sam didn't want Dean to be disappointed in him, but Sam was disappointed in himself and he needed to explain himself—he needed to have more communication with him than he'd had in the past, and this was the way to do it.

"You don't feel like you're my equal?" Dean asked Sam, and Sam knew he was hurt. "How can you think that, Sammy?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders. "I told you before that I went off with Ruby because it was a way to get away from you—part of that was true. I always feel like I'm walking around in your shadow—like you don't think I can take care of myself."

"You're my little brother, Sam!" Dean exclaimed, looking at him, pain in his eyes. "I have to protect you!"

"But can't you do that _and_ treat me like I'm strong, Dean?" Sam asked him honestly. "Dean, you're _constantly_ asking me if I'm all right, or if I'm feeling okay—you're constantly watching me like a hawk, wondering—waiting—to see if I'm going to snap again, and though I can't blame you based on my past mistakes, I just…"

Sam trailed off and he shook his head, both of them feeling the pain in their hearts constrict a little. They were sad, but the conversation was important and Dean nodded because it was true—everything that Sam was telling him about himself was true and it just made Dean feel more and more responsible. He'd left Sam to go to Hell—he'd done _monstrous_ things in Hell—and when he came back, all he'd succeeded in doing was push Sam farther and farther away because he was _afraid_.

"I was scared, Sammy." Dean said softly, Sam looking up at him and looking at him questioningly. "After what Dad said about me having to save you or kill you…in the back of my mind I've always felt like I had to protect—protect you from demons, protect you from yourself. I'm sorry if that's been making you feel inferior. You're _not_ inferior, Sam—you're not even weak. You've been doing _so_ well staying away from demon blood, and even though you snapped, that was Famine—Famine wanted you to eat."

Sam nodded and then ran his fingers through his hair again. "I'm afraid I'm going to snap again, Dean…and what if I do?"

"You won't." Dean said, shaking his head. "You won't because you're stronger than you think you are. Hell, Sammy, you've said my ass plenty a time and you watch out for me even when I don't watch out for myself—this thing we have is more than just a partnership…it's _family_, and I trust you with my life."

"I needed to hear that, Dean." Sam admitted, smiling a little.

Dean nodded too, a small smile on his as well. "I think for once this caring and sharing actually did us some good."

Sam couldn't help but agree with him as Bobby pulled out his phone and took a deep breath. He had a feeling that Jeremy didn't want _anything_ to do with him after everything Grace had been through—after all of the pieces of her life that Jeremy had had to help to pick up, and even though Grace was forgiving him, Jeremy had no reason to. Still, this was about Grace, and Jeremy couldn't just ignore that, could he? There was something else going on with her, and Bobby needed help—help he couldn't ask for from Sam or Dean…help that could only come from Grace's family.

"Hello?" Jeremy answered, wanting to know this unknown number.

Bobby took a deep breath. "Hi, Jeremy, it's me—your Uncle Bobby."

**

Grace ran her fingers through her hair and looked at Thea, wishing she knew _exactly_ what to say to this angel sitting next to her. Instead she looked over at the kids playing on the monkey bars and the swings, and Thea watched her, smiling at her kindly. Thea didn't want Grace to come to any harm, she just wanted Grace to understand and it was really about time that she talked to her. It had been _far_ too long, and Thea knew that Grace needed to understand what was happening, and she wanted to answer all of her questions.

"You know…my best friend's name is Emma—just like your vessel." Grace said, watching as a mother went to the aid of her little boy who had fallen and scraped his knee. "You seem…I dunno…different from the other angels."

Thea smiled a little. "Well I'm not here to demand things out of you."

"I can see that." Grace told her, looking at her and taking a shaky breath. "So, uh…you hear to tell me about my mother?"

"Yes…if you want me to." Thea replied, looking Grace in the eye. "It pains you to talk about her."

Grace nodded at that. "Of course it does…I only got to know her for a really short period of time and then I watched my father kill her…it's a painful subject for me but it's _all_ that I can think about."

Grace felt the tears pooling in her eyes and she bit her lip and looked away from the kind and loving angel to regain her composure. She took deep breaths and she used her sleeves to blot her eyes, not wanting to cry while the children were playing not too far off and then she looked back at Thea, who had scooted closer to her. The angel was so kind, and Grace didn't understand it, but she trusted this one more than the others—and she wanted to know _why_ Thea was here…why _now_.

"So…what did you come to tell me?" Grace asked her. "I want…I want to know about my mother."

Thea nodded slowly. "Would you like to have this conversation some place more private? I want you to be comfortable."

"I'm all right her, Thea…I just want some answers." Grace replied, smiling even though Thea could tell she felt like crying a little more.

"Your mother was beautiful and she was strong and independent—and she loved you very much." Thea told Grace, smiling at her. "She was supposed to be my vessel, but she didn't want to leave you, Grace. She wanted to have a family and a life, and she wanted so _desperately_ to just raise you and have a life with you and your father. So I was her friend, but since I wasn't getting my job done, I had to leave and seek out another vessel and the demons caught on. They caught on and one of them possessed your mother…your father didn't understand, and he didn't know what to do, but he did what he had to do to protect you. I went to your aunt, the next one in my line of choices but she blamed me for not protecting your mother—for following orders and not being there to help. Emma accepted me…Emma wanted to help me to reach out to you…to explain to you _why_ Lucifer wants to use you as a vessel."

Grace nodded and scooted closer to Thea, wanting the close comforting contact. "I'd like to know the answer to that as well."

"It's simple, Grace—you're strong and you get things done. You're a hunter and yet you have a habit of facing things. Dealing with problems, helping people through their pain—you make _bonds_ with people and they trust you. What other face would Lucifer want but yours?" Thea asked her. "Yes, he wants Sam, and someday he will get Sam to say 'yes' to him, but for now…for now he wants _you_. He wants someone that others will trust…he wants someone that has felt the betrayal of their father as closely as you have—he wants someone that _understands_ him."

Grace nodded, her bottom lip trembling and she leaned her head on Thea's shoulder. Almost with a motherly comfort, Thea held her and stroked her hair, whispering to Grace that things would be all right if she just _believed_ that…if she just didn't lose sight of what was the most important. There was just one more question that Grace had and she _hated_ asking it, but she knew that she had to or she'd never truly be at peace.

"In this apocalyptic war…Dean has to say 'yes'…doesn't he?" Grace asked Thea.

Thea nodded slowly. "Without him we're defeated. They can kill the Horsemen if they want, but the Horsemen usher _in_ the Apocalypse. Even dead, what they've started can just be reinforced by Lucifer. Yeah, they stopped War and Famine before they could scourge the world with their plagues, but Pestilence and Death will not be as easy, and you still have Lucifer to think about. This planet is at war, Grace…and it will continue to _be_ at war until Lucifer is defeated."

"So where is Michael in all of this?" Grace asked, pulling back and looking at Thea. "When is he going to show himself and talk it out with Dean?"

"Patience, Grace…patience." Thea told her, smiling a little. "I will be in touch…I just needed to make contact."

Grace nodded and thanked her softly, nodding when Thea was gone and turning back to watch the kids for a little while longer. Then she took a deep breath and headed back home, opening up the door to see Sam and Dean watching TV and sharing beers together, which made her feel a lot better. She wished so whole-heartedly that the two of them would talk and be happy and he just wanted to be close to someone and forget all of the emotional baggage she was carrying.

"What are you watching?" Grace asked them, sitting on the couch and snuggling into Dean when he wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of her head.

Sam chuckled and smiled at the two. "_Not_ a soap—though Dean tried."

"You're into soaps?" Grace asked Dean, who was shooting Sam a look.

"He _loves_ them…a little _too_ much, I think." Sam replied, sipping his beer.

Grace laughed and Bobby smiled as he watched the three interact, paying close attention to their body language. Dean cared so much for his brother, and Sam cared so much for Dean in return, but mostly, Bobby was noticing how easily the two had accepted Grace into their lives. They genuinely cared about her, and wanted to be near her, and it made Bobby feel happy inside to know that the four of them could be a family—even if it was a little broken still. Mainly, though…Bobby noticed the look of pure, unadulterated fondness that Dean held in his eyes when he looked at Grace.

**

Jeremy really wasn't sure about what he was being asked to do—he wasn't sure if he really _wanted_ to do as Bobby asked him. At the same time, Jeremy understood that this was for Grace, and Grace had been there for him when no one else had been and he knew he couldn't let her down…he knew that in figuring out her past—in deciding her future—she needed information that his mother had locked away. His mother and Grace's had been involved in something bigger than him or Grace, and if he was going to unlock the answers, then he might as well do them with his cousin.

Grace and Jeremy might as well have been brother and sister. They had done everything together—played, studied, teased, annoyed, loved platonically and unconditionally—if Bobby hadn't have killed Grace's mother, Jeremy was _certain_ that he and Grace never would have been as close as they had become. There were certainly days back in the beginning where he had wished his cousin's long vacation with him and his mother would end, but as he grew older and he appreciated her more, he knew he never would have traded those days for anything.

"In all honesty it's not even Bobby's fault." Jeremy said slowly as he packed his things.

Jeremy knew that he couldn't blame Bobby for killing Grace's mother—Bobby didn't know what to do back then. Hunting wasn't part of his life, and Grace's mother wanted Grace to grow up normally…even though she knew that someday Grace would need to understand what kind of things were being set into motion. She had journals, and her sister, Carrie, had journals, and now it was Jeremy's turn to be involved. He was just as much a potential vessel as Grace was, and it was about time he and Grace did one more thing together—figured out what it was that their mothers had been hiding from them all of their lives.

Sure the two knew most things, but there were still questions that needed answers and he knew that together he and Grace could figure out _anything_—that was how they'd lived their whole lives together. They'd seen each other through everything: sickness, significant others, hard tests, death of pets, death of family and friends, bad zits…it was time for him to rejoin her once again and help her to sort out her future. Besides—Jeremy had already been visited by Thea and he knew it was only a matter of time before Bobby got himself involved.

Actually, Jeremy found it pleasing to know that Bobby cared so much for his daughter—that he and Grace had formed a bond. He knew how hard it had been for Grace to adjust to life without her parents, and he knew how hard it was for Grace to love her father so much and yet despise everything about him. There had been nights where Grace would cry herself to sleep in her room and though as a whole it got better, Grace always carried that around inside of her. Everything just manifested after Jeremy lost his mother, and then Grace felt like she had to find her father—had to find answers because Lucifer has presented her with so many questions.

"I just hope Grace is okay." Mary told Jeremy, smiling at him softly. "How long are you going to be gone this time?"

Jeremy looked at his fiancée as she leaned on the doorframe of their room, watching him shove things into a duffle. He smiled softly at her and then walked over to her and kissed her softly, running his fingers along her stomach and nuzzling her nose with his. He'd found it lucky that he'd found someone who could know all his secrets and still accept him, and yet it broke him every time he left her. Still, she understood that Grace was his family, and she got that she needed to do this and she was going to support him through thick and thin.

"I'm going to make this trip as quick as possible, Mary." Jeremy said, kissing her softly again. "You sure you don't want to come?"

Mary smiled at him. "I'm going to stay here, Jer—I still have planning to do for the wedding, and my Dad's flying in so…be careful, all right?"

"Promise." Jeremy told her, grabbing his duffle and kissing her one last time before heading out—he just hoped that Grace was doing all right.

Grace took a deep breath as she thought over her conversation with Thea, looking up as Dean rapped his knuckles on her door and opened it up slowly. She smiled at him and then the smile faded, Dean shutting the door behind him and swallowing. There were things for them to discuss, but at the same time Dean wasn't sure if he could do any more of this 'caring and sharing' today…he was pretty 'care and shared' out.

"You and Sam looked pretty patched up." Grace told him smiling.

Dean nodded and smiled a little too. "Yeah…he and I talked and it was a good thing, surprisingly."

"I think you still have some talking in you." Grace said, getting off of her bed and crossing over to him. "I saw Thea today."

"And you're just _now_ telling me?!" Dean asked her suddenly. "What about Bobby and Sam? Have you told them?"

Grace shook her head and opened her mouth to say something but then she shut it and she bit her lip. There was so much to tell him and just not enough time and besides—Grace wanted to know what was up with _him_. Dean was troubled and he was sad, and yet he never talked to her about any of it and Grace knew they hadn't known each other very long, but she didn't like feeling like he didn't trust her. She wanted him to be able to open up to her…she wanted him to be able to feel like he could come to her.

"She and I had a pleasant conversation, actually." Grace admitted slowly. "She'll be in contact, and I'm sure some more of my past will be drudged up."

Dean nodded knowingly. "The past has a way of coming back."

"Dean?" Grace asked him.

"Yeah, Grace?" Dean answered automatically.

Grace took a deep breath. "I know you haven't know me long enough to _entirely_ trust me, but I'd like to think that we're close enough that you can tell me things. Remember when we first met and I told you I thought you looked like you needed some time to think? I'm good at reading people, Dean…and you look lost and sad and I want you to know that you can _always_ come to me. I'm always going to be here to listen to what you have to say—I _genuinely_ want to help you in any way that I can, all right?"

Dean could feel a tightness in his chest building and he just nodded, feeling something he hadn't felt in years. He hated having such deep and meaningful conversations, but she was looking up at him so strongly and yet so fondly, and Dean found that he just couldn't keep anything in, any more. Grace _wanted_ to be a part of his life, even if it was just to be his friend and to help him through his problems, and though he didn't want her to have to share his burdens, he found the words just spilling out to her.

"The first time I knew hunting existed I was five—I walked in on my father shooting one of his friends in the head." Dean explained and Grace's eyes showed shock—shock that he was so young like her, and also shock that he was opening up to her at all. "He got pretty cold after Mom was taken from him and he raised Sammy and I to hunt. He was so _angry_ with the demon and so was I, honestly. Sam and I grew up fighting and hunting and then Sam went his own way and Dad was so focused and driven and I had to do my own thing. In the beginning it was fine, don't get me wrong, but soon we were losing everyone close to us and hunting became this _insane_ way of life and I started to turn. Then I went to Hell and I tortured souls and I _enjoyed_ it and then I was brought back and I've never really felt like I _belonged_ here. I had to watch my brother turn into a monster and I couldn't stop him—couldn't stop him from becoming like the monster I was in Hell…only I was worse. Then there was just more and more loss and I already felt like I was dead—like I was a shell—but then Famine showed and he _told_ me I was dead inside…he just…he just confirmed it _all_, Grace."

There was so much pain in his voice and tears clouding his vision but he didn't want to cry—she did. She couldn't stop the tears from sliding down her cheeks because she felt for him and she wanted to make him feel better. He hadn't showed her that he was dead inside and she wanted him not to think about it like that because it wasn't true—she didn't believe that it was true. Dean Winchester had a soul, he was just hurt and in a _lot_ of pain and he had things to work through. That didn't mean he was dead inside—he just had to find his way again and _live_ life…not _immerse_ himself in hunting. She opened her mouth to say something, but Dean wasn't done and he just kept going after his pause—he had glanced at her and his heart was warmed to see how much she cared for him.

"It's why I was so upset about you killing the demon." Dean told her shrugging, looking her in the eye even though he knew it would be the end of his composure. "I wasn't mad at _you_, I was just freaking out because I _saw_ that look in your eyes—I _heard_ the pain in your voice. It was revenge, and it was easy for you and I don't _want_ it to be easy for you, Grace. I don't want this to ruin you like it's ruined me. I don't want _you_ to become dead inside—I don't want you to become like _me_. You're _perfect_, Grace—you live your life, you keep a level head, you're optimistic, you're good at reading people, you're helpful, you're kind, you're—"

Dean was cut off by her lips pressing to his, and he found himself starting to cry a little bit, but kissing her back. After spilling his soul to her practically and not expecting anything in return even though he had questions for her, he hadn't _actually_ expected her to _want_ to be close to him anymore. Everything he'd said to her, and she was kissing him, pulling him close to her and wiping his fallen tears away with her thumbs and Dean? Dean didn't want it to end.

"The fact that you're trying contradicts _everything_ that Famine said." Grace told him softly, smiling fondly as Dean opened up his eyes to look at her. "What do you feel right _now_?"

Dean stroked her hair and kissed her softly. "For the first time in a long time, Grace, I feel _calm_. I also feel kind of spent."

"I can understand that." Grace replied softly, kissing him and then pulling him gently towards the bed with her. "You can stay in here if you like…"

"I'm taking you up on that offer." Dean said with a smile, kissing her again. "Honestly, right now…I don't know what I'd do without you."

**Note: **_**Almost**_** everyone talked that needed to talk…with that said, expect the next couple of chapters to be centered around Grace and Dean, but have other characters in it too. There's also going to be a new character that's also old—but that's all I'll say about **_**that**_**. Feedback is always appreciated!**


	11. New Beginnings

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**This one is pretty fundamental to the Grace/Dean relationship and also has a bit of fluffy stuff in it, surprisingly.**

**WARNINGS: Language, Controversial Topics, Dark Themes, Sex, Violence, Blood**

**ENJOY!**

****

Grace woke up first the next morning, smiling at Dean as he slept peacefully, reaching out and stroking his cheek gently. He had had a bit of a fitful sleep the night before, but he had mellowed out and wasn't tossing and turning as much anymore. She hated to think that he was having nightmares, but it made sense to her after everything that he had been through—she had just hoped that he would be a little calmer after getting everything off of his chest the day before.

"I'm just glad you're calm now." Grace whispered, smiling even more fondly at him and propping herself up on her hand.

She knew she shouldn't watch him while he slept because it could be construed as creepy, but she couldn't help it—he was adorable. The way his hair was mussed and the way when he was actually at peace he looked so calm and almost…almost _happy_. Grace was just glad that for once, there was a slight, soft smile on Dean's face—it almost made everything they had to keep going through bearable.

"Are you watching me?" Dean asked, scrunching his nose a little, the soft smile on his face.

Grace laughed softly. "Of course I am—I'm stalking your every move, Dean Winchester."

"That sounds ominous." Dean teased, his eyes fluttering open.

"Well yeah, sure if you wanna look at it that way." Grace said, laughing a little more and stroking his cheek.

Dean smiled at her and put his arm around her, pulling her body close to his and looking her in the eye as she stopped laughing and nuzzled his nose with hers. He knew she wanted _him_ to take the initiative this time and he did, kissing her gently, running his tongue lazily along her bottom lip and smiling when she opened up her mouth for him. It had been almost _too_ long since Dean had woken up feeling at peace and feeling safe, and he owed Grace _so_ much for that.

"Thank you." Dean whispered to her, kissing her nose softly and cupping her face, his thumb brushing lightly over her smooth cheek. "I owe you."

Grace smiled and shook her head, making eye contact. "You owe me nothing…but, uh…you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Dean asked her shrugging.

"Nothing, you just…uh…you had some nightmares." Grace told him. "I was really worried when you started to toss and turn and I just wanted to make sure that you were all right—you don't have to tell me anything."

Dean nodded and smiled sadly, kissing Grace one more time. "I appreciate the concern…the nightmares are really nothing I haven't dealt with."

"Then end of conversation." Grace said, knowing he didn't want to spill anymore.

Instead she kissed him again, raking her nails along his sides gently, Dean bringing her closer to him, running his hand down her side to her hip. He brought her hip against his a little harder than he had expected to, but he wanted to touch her—feel her…he was in over his head here. She was different than the others and though she was responding by deepening the kiss, Dean didn't feel right about it…felt like she deserved more than some morning tryst.

Just that thought was pissing him off and he didn't get it—he knew he was never going back to the Dean he used to be, but he also knew that he was feeling a little _too_ deep. Besides, he was still feeling like he was getting this close to Grace because he was trying to prove something and the closer he got to her, the more he realized she deserved _more_ than that. And why wasn't _Grace_ annoyed with him after what he'd said about Famine? Didn't she feel like she was being used?

"I smell eggs." Grace said suddenly, pulling back. "Dad's making us all breakfast."

Dean chuckled at her and grinned. "Well we both definitely have all of this food stuff in common. Let's go get some eggs, shall we?"

"No second helpings until everyone has had firsts, and no thirds until everyone has had a chance to have seconds." Grace told him sternly as she got out of bed.

"Can't make that promise." Dean replied, feeling like playfulness was coming easily to him with Grace—he was thankful for that.

Grace gasped and shot him a look as she pulled her hair back. "Oh do not kid me with food, Dean Winchester."

"Well don't stand in between me and food, Grace Singer." Dean warned her in a joking tone.

Grace laughed and pulled him in for another kiss when they made it to the door, Dean smiling and responding to her. Then she pulled away and Dean chuckled, following her as she bounded to the kitchen and leaned down to kiss her father on the cheek. Bobby and Sam _both_ noticed just _how_ happy Grace and Dean were acting that morning and though they suspected things, they didn't say anything out loud.

Bobby wanted to know what Dean's intentions were with his daughter, and Grace did too—it was hard for her _not_ to think about, honestly. She didn't know what she was to Dean other than a girl who was attracted to him and let him kiss her and sleep in her bed with him. Grace was sexually attracted to him and she was emotionally attached to him, but she wanted to be his girlfriend…she just had a feeling Dean Winchester didn't do that…and right now she wasn't going to push a talk on him.

"What kind of orange juice?" Grace asked her father, kissing his cheek.

He smiled at her. "Fresh-squeezed. I made Sam do it—it was that or go to the store for Tropicana or Minute Maid."

"You're the perfect father." Grace told him, smiling and sipping the orange juice.

"And you are a freak." Dean said, laughing a little at the new quirk of Grace's he'd just learned—Grace Singer was picky about her orange juice.

**

For lunch that afternoon, Sam had decided to get out of the house and try and get some air. Bobby was kind of retreating into some research, and Grace and Dean were cuddling on the couch watching a movie together that Grace had to _beg_ Dean to let her watch. As much as Sam liked to watch his brother actually _happy_, Sam didn't want to be surrounded so much with all of the lovey-dovey going on even though Sam was happy for Dean…and for Grace.

"Bobby, I get it, okay? I'll be there for Grace soon, I promise." Jeremy told him, hanging up his phone and sighing, looking at his coffee.

Sam couldn't help but over hear as he walked into the diner and he went over to the table Jeremy was at, looking at him. Jeremy cocked his head to one side in confusion wondering exactly who this man was that was stopping at his table and looking at him. He opened up his mouth to say something, but Sam beat him to it and he honestly didn't mind it. Jeremy kind of wanted to see how this conversation played out and he didn't so much want to be the first one to break the ice.

"You must be Jeremy." Sam told him. "Sorry, I _know_ it's rude to eavesdrop."

Jeremy smiled up at him. "No, it's fine…who are you?"

"Sam Winchester." Sam greeted, holding out his hand and shaking Jeremy's firmly. "I doubt you've heard of me, but—"

"—you're Dean's younger brother…Grace speaks highly of you." Jeremy explained, motioning for Sam to join him and he did. "She e-mails me and calls me a lot—we're more like siblings than we are like cousins."

Sam smiled and nodded at that, glad to see that Grace had someone on her side no matter what that _knew_ her. Grace and Jeremy had grown up together and he was going to fight for her no matter what happened and Grace needed that. Besides, Jeremy lost his mother as well, and he and Grace had a past to face…a past they had to face together.

"So what is it?" Jeremy asked Sam as Sam got comfortable in the seat.

Sam looked at Jeremy as he sipped his coffee, and just shook his head—for some reason Sam was just feeling like he couldn't get comfortable. He was feeling like something was happening, and though he was glad Grace had some more happiness coming her way, he felt suddenly like everything had a price…he felt like perhaps a demon was near? Jeremy noticed Sam's odd demeanor change and as he opened his mouth to say something, Sam glanced at a table across the diner and his eyes widened.

She was unmistakable—her dark silky locks, her smooth fair skin, the way her face crinkled so beautifully when she smiled. She had a cup of coffee sitting on the table and a book was in her hand, her hair pinned back, cascading onto her shoulders and Sam felt his whole heart brighten just at the sight of her. He couldn't hold back a smile as he looked her over, Jeremy looking at the beautiful women wearing the sweater and the slacks, sensible heels on her feet and her jacket hanging over the back of her chair—it was Sara Blake.

"You know her?" Jeremy asked him smiling. "Or is this just love at first sight?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't believe in love at first sight."

"Me neither." Jeremy admitted, sipping his coffee and chuckling a little. "I say you go and talk to her…she's making your eyes light up. Sorry if that's forward of me to say since I don't know you, but…live in the moment, Sam."

"I agree with you." Sam said nodding, getting up to head over to see her.

Sam knew that this was going to be out of the blue for her and he wondered for a moment _why_ she was there, but he was _giddy_. Sara Blake was the only one who knew what Sam did for a living—she was the only one he had told about hunting that had lived to tell the tale…that had _accepted_ it and tried to _help_ him and Dean to fight. God…she was more beautiful than she had been when they had to part ways, and Sam suddenly realized that she could be here with someone else.

_Turn around, Sam_. He thought to himself.

"Sam?" Sara asked happiness in her voice.

It was too late, and so Sam put a smile back on his face—it wasn't hard for him—and he turned back to her, glad she was _so_ happy to see him. She hadn't expected to run into him but she was glad, and even though it had been four years, there was no place else that she would rather be than right there with Sam. Sam was surprised when she went to hug him, but he hugged her back automatically and closed his eyes peacefully, resting his head on hers and smelling her hair—vanilla and lavender.

"Wow, it's been…four years." Sara said, still holding onto him and remembering how it was when they'd first met—she had been so smitten with him…even _after_ learning what it was that Sam did for a living.

Sam nodded and managed out, "It's been too long."

"I agree." Sara whispered back, and Jeremy smiled at them from his table in the diner.

**

"Where the Hell _is_ that boy?" Bobby asked aloud, sighing and then looking at the ceiling. "Castiel?"

Bobby hated that he needed help, but he wanted to find Jeremy and talk to him and he didn't want to put Grace or Dean out. Grace and Dean seemed to be getting along and Bobby just wanted to make sure that Jeremy was actually coming like he said he was—bobby was just freaking out a little bit. He had heard about Thea coming to talk to Grace and though Grace seemed to _genuinely_ like her and _trusted_ her and what she was saying to her, Bobby just wanted to make sure.

This was his second chance to get to be with Grace and be the father that he had _wanted_ to be, and he couldn't blow it. He smiled a little when Castiel showed up, Castiel looking at him with that calm gentle glance, and then looking towards the other room, making a face as he heard Grace and Dean laugh with each other. It hurt him enough that he couldn't sense his friends and know if they were in danger or not, but it worried him that he couldn't sense Grace.

"She is wearing the pendant." Castiel stated, looking back at Bobby.

Bobby nodded slowly. "Yeah, I uh…I told her to put it back on."

"Lucifer gave her that pendant." Castiel reminded him. "We shouldn't trust it."

"I just want her safe from the angels that are potentially on Lucifer's side—this isn't why I called you." Bobby explained quickly.

Castiel nodded and looked at Bobby, glad to help the old hunter that he _also_ considered to be his friend. He had spent a lot of time the last month in Bobby's and Grace's company, mostly with Grace, and he wanted what was best for them—wanted to make their lives as easy as possible. Besides, Bobby needed something from him and since he knew Bobby would gladly lay down his life for him, Castiel was more than willing to do whatever Bobby wanted.

"I need you to take me to see Jeremy—he's important to this puzzle and he's taking his sweet time getting here." Bobby explained to the angel.

Castiel nodded at him. "I can take you to him…tell Grace you're leaving first—she worries."

"You're right." Bobby said with a knowing smile, nodding at the angel and then wheeling over to his door, poking his head out. "Grace? Castiel and I are going out for a little bit, but he'll bring me back in one piece."

"I trust him." Grace replied, turning on the couch and smiling. "Take care, Dad."

Bobby nodded and then he and Castiel disappeared, Grace turning to Dean with a smile plastered on her face. He was watching the TV, pretending to be riveted with it and Grace just swallowed and mustered up all of her courage. She closed her eyes and composed her thoughts, Dean glancing at her and smiling at how adorable she looked when she was determined to do something—Dean was _so_ glad just to be in her presence.

"If I ask you a question will you _please_ promise not to tease me about it?" Grace asked him, opening her eyes when she'd spilled her words.

Dean laughed a little. "I'm not making any such promise."

"I love that you're happy right now." Grace told him honestly, smiling when he beamed and then rolled his eyes playfully and looked back at the TV. "Look…I don't want you to think I'm pushing myself on you, but what are we doing?"

"I knew this was coming." Dean said softly, grabbing the remote and turning off the TV.

Grace smiled a little and then it faded a bit as Dean turned to her on the couch and they made direct eye contact. He wanted so desperately to tell her that he wanted to try out a relationship with her but he thought he was trying to enter into this for all the wrong reasons. He'd always brushed off trying to make things last because eh knew his job meant sacrifice and yet he couldn't bear the thought of just brushing _Grace_ off. Dean had all of these feelings for her that he needed to sort out and he didn't know how to do it, but he didn't want to hurt her…she was making him genuinely happy…why did he have to sacrifice that?

"I can't let you bear my burdens." Dean told her as she sat there silently, letting him get in all the words that he need and he reached up to stroke her cheek as she gave him a look. "That isn't fair to you. I don't want you to think that you have to help me through _anything_—that you have to deal with the things that I _have_ to deal with. Michael? He isn't your problem. This apocalypse? _You_ didn't start it, I did. This time together that we're sharing, I really like it, and I trust you, and—"

"—can I interject here?" Grace asked him.

Dean looked a little stunned. "I think you just did."

"Right." Grace told him blushing and then she leaned in and kissed him tenderly, Dean responding automatically and then making a face when she pulled back—he didn't want the kiss to end and that in itself scared him. "I'm old enough to make my own decisions and I'm interested in you, Dean…this relationship? It _isn't_ a bandaid."

Dean nodded and smiled a little, his eyes fixed on Grace as she stood up and held her hand out to him. He looked at her hand and then back up into her eyes, searching them for answers as she smiled at him and moved her hand a little moving closer to him. She wanted him to take it and so he did, running his thumb along her soft skin and keeping eye contact with her.

"You said you trusted me and I know that's big for you, so…follow." She said, tugging on him softly.

Dean just nodded slowly and stood up, letting Grace lead him to her room, where she shut the door and then turned to Dean. He found himself swallowing when she walked up to him and took a deep breath, kissing him gently and Dean returned the kiss, his fingers slipping into her hair even though he had a feeling he knew where she was taking this. He'd let her know that she wasn't just some girl so he could do this, right?

"We're not going to do anything that you don't want to do because I want you to feel _comfortable_ with me Dean." Grace said shrugging, unbuttoning her jeans. "If that means that I have to take on the occasional baggage of yours than I'm going to do it…whether you want me to or not—I kind of make my own decisions."

Dean laughed a little as she whispered the last words and he saw that small spark of forwardness she had possessed for a little while. He also found it highly amusing that _she_ was telling _him_ that they weren't going to do anything that _he_ didn't want to do, when _he'd_ been the one to make the sexual advances in the first place. Grace smiled up at him and rested her hands on his sides, Dean locking gazes with her as she started to move his shirt up his sides a little.

"I haven't done this in a while so…I'm apologizing now." Grace said softly, a blush rising in her cheeks and it made Dean feel almost _giddy_ inside—that was the cute, slightly blustery Grace that he knew and was coming to adore.

He lifted his arms up and let her pull his shirt off, kissing her as she tossed the shirt on the ground. "We'll figure it out together, Grace."

**Note: Sara showed up, Bobby's being secretive to Grace about Jeremy, **_**and **_**there was a cliffhanger? Yeah, I'm kind of mean. Still, I hope you stay tuned for the next chapter, which has **_**two **_**important reunions in it…Feedback is always appreciated!**


	12. Gabriel

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**This chapter is kind of the chapter that starts to involve the "romance" so…there's a lot to it.**

**There are also lots of twists and turns, so bear with me, okay?**

**WARNINGS: Language, Controversial Topics, Dark Themes, Sex, Violence, Blood**

**ENJOY!**

****

Dean stroked Grace's hair, smiling softly and pulling back as she ran her hands along his arms. He ran his nose along hers and then made eye contact, Grace smiling at him and then slipping her fingers into his hair. It was just kind of gentle and slow, and Dean was feeling at peace for the first time in a long time.

"You sure?" Dean asked her suddenly.

Grace just nodded and kissed him, both of them pulling back slowly when her cell phone went off. She reached down into the pocket of her jeans, pulling out her phone and looking at the cover, biting her lip. Dean ran his fingers through her hair and nodded, knowing that she was going to answer the phone. From the look in her eyes this was important, and she knew that no matter what _she_ wanted, this phone call took precedence, and that was that.

"It's Jeremy." Grace explained, holding up the phone and showing Dean the cover, smiling sadly. "I haven't talked to him really since I took off…not about things that mattered."

Dean nodded and kissed her forehead, his fingers absent-mindedly running along her bra straps. He understood that she needed to talk to him and that she was feeling pretty vulnerable, and he backed off, going for his shirt and swallowing when she flipped the phone open and started talking to him. It was still weird for him to realize that he was becoming someone else…and yet _not_ changing who he was at all.

"Hey, Jer." Grace said merrily, glad he was calling. "How have you been? How's Mary?"

Jeremy smiled a little. "Mary's fine—I'm actually calling about you. About you, Thea, Lucifer, your Dad…all of it, Gracie."

"I figured it wasn't a house call." Grace replied, looking up as Dean headed out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Grace just nodded and then told Jeremy to hang on, pulling her shirt on and then telling Jeremy to come to Bobby's and they'd talk then. She didn't want to be away from Dean right then, and it wasn't even about their 'relationship' or about sex or any of that—it was that Jeremy was around and there were things she wanted to talk to Dean about. There were things that she wanted him to know…things that she wanted him to hear from _her_.

"I wanted to be close to Dad because I knew he knew things." Grace admitted when she made it to the living room, Dean settling into the couch.

Dean looked up at her and raised his eyebrows. "Come again?"

"I didn't come back solely for the purpose of reconnecting with my father." Grace said, feeling the tears welling up as she thought about it all. "Yeah, I've forgiven him, but that doesn't erase all of the pain I felt when he killed my mother. I was so young, and I know he was trying to protect me, but…she was my _mother_. I've grown up knowing about hunting—knowing that my father was a hunter. I knew about demons, and about angels, and I've killed my fair share but…there was always something missing. Dad knew Mom before she was Mom. He knew things about her that I'm only just getting to know. I thought that in the gaps that maybe…maybe all of this angel stuff would make sense."

"Grace…you don't have to—" Dean tried.

"—don't shut me down here!" Grace said forcefully even though the intent of it was soft.

Dean just nodded and stood up as Grace wiped her eyes, shaking her head and feeling like a terrible human being. There were so many things that had been running through her head for years—so many things that only _Bobby_ could connect the dots to—and Grace needed to know them. She loved her father, and she always had…she just felt so bad for lying to everyone about her motives. Grace needed answers…and she needed her father.

"I've always known there was a plan for me, Dean." Grace told him, smiling sadly and shaking her head. "I've always known that my mother died…because of _me_…_not_ because of my father."

Dean made another face. "Wait a minute…I don't understand…"

"The way my aunt explained things to me, my mother was Thea's true vessel—just like you're Michael's and Sam's Lucifer's. The catch was that my mother wanted a normal life. She was in love with Dad and she wanted a family and she wanted everything just right…but she couldn't have it like that. Somehow it was laid out that I was going to be special—that I was going to be a link." Grace explained, her lip trembling. "The demon wasn't just having fun. She said she was, but…I pulled that trigger not just because I was upset about the demon laughing about my mother's death…I pulled that trigger because it was _my_ fault that that demon possessed my mother."

"Grace, you can't believe that." Dean told her, going over to her and gathering her up in his arms, wiping away her tears. "It was _not_ your fault that your mother died."

Grace's tears spilled out again. "That's not what Gabriel said."

**

Sam wasn't quite sure where to even begin with Sara, but he bought her meal and they began to talk—about _everything_. He couldn't control himself it felt like and he told her about him dying, and the psychics and Dean dying and going to Hell and about the Apocalypse…he even told her about his demon blood addiction. For a moment he felt like he was coming on _way_ too strong, but Sara just smiled sadly at him when he closed his mouth, down verbally committing all over her.

She had a feeling that Sam's life was hard, but she never expected it to be like that—never expected him to have to go through _that_ much. It scared her a little, but at the same time her leads to Sam had brought her here, and she had things to talk to him about too and sitting there across from her…he really didn't seem scary at all. He was still Sam Winchester—albeit a little more damaged—and she was still Sara Blake…she was still willing to be there for him.

Sam Winchester risked his life to put strangers first, and ever since their first meeting Sara had been attracted. She hadn't even known about the good deeds that Sam did at first, but she had accepted it…she had accepted _him_. Sara didn't even really _like_ hunting. She had never thought about taking it up, and she didn't have the nerve to kill anyone or anything, but she definitely couldn't stop thinking about Sam—no matter how hard she had tried to…no matter how many times she told herself that she could move on and have her own life.

"I think it's safe to say that you've had a rough time of it since you left." Sara told Sam, reaching over the table and taking his hand in hers. "I'm sorry about that."

Sam just kind of stared at her. "Really? After all of that you just…really?"

"It's that surprising?" She asked him.

"Well…yeah." Sam told her, nodding and feeling a sudden calm wash over him. "I mean its _demon blood_…I _started_ the _Apocalypse_…most girls would run the other direction."

Sam smiled at him and nodded. "Well, Sam—I'm _not_ most girls."

He nodded at that and then motioned his head for the door, Sara nodding and grabbing her jacket, following him past Jeremy, out of the diner. She wanted to see what Sam had in store for their meeting up, and she wanted to make sure that Sam was in good hands—that he was happy. He certainly didn't _sound_ happy, and that made Sara incredibly down-hearted—Sara had always wished for _good_ things for Sam.

"There's a couple of people that I want you to meet." Sam explained, walking her towards Bobby's. "You were really looking for me?"

Sara smiled at him and the happiness in his voice when he asked that. "I do have a little business here that doesn't have anything to do with you, but uh…yeah. I missed you even though we never really got to completely know each other. You saved my life though, and you gave me a chance even though your heart was healing and I just…I was scared you were dead. I mean you kind of were but…"

Sara trailed off and Sam laughed a little, both of them laughing together and then Sam felt his stomach lighten as she reached for his hand. Their fingers interlaced and she looked up at him, amazed to see him, and hoping that she could keep him this time. If that meant having to use her newly honed skills to help them to research and talk their way into things then so be it…she just wasn't so keen about the _killing_ part.

"So who am I meeting?" Sara asked Sam as they walked in sync.

Sam smiled and nodded a little. "Bobby Singer and his daughter, Grace. They live just up the way and uh…he's like my Dad and she's becoming a very dear friend of mine."

"Sounds like fun to me." Sara replied nodding. "How is Dean?"

"Dean is…we've all been better." Sam admitted shrugging a little.

Sara nodded and instantly felt ridiculous about having asked such a question when she knew that Dean had been in Hell. She also knew that Sam and Dean were having some brotherly problems that they needed to work out, but she had faith that they would. Sam smiled down at her as he opened up the front door and they walked in, Dean holding Grace on the couch and obviously both of them were distraught.

"Sara?" Dean asked suddenly when he looked up.

Grace wiped her eyes and forced a smiling, wiping her hands on her jeans and then standing up and extending her hand. Sara took it and shook her hand, surprised that Dean remembered who she was, but flattered all the same. She was also a little surprised at how beautiful Grace was, but by the looks of things, Grace's heart was not interested in Sam—it was interested in Dean.

"She knows everything, so you don't have to sugar coat anything, Dean." Sam explained, looking at Grace and running his hands on her shoulders. "What happened?"

Dean gave Sam a look. "_Everything_?!"

"_Everything_." Sam repeated and then looked back at Grace. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"You can help _me_ to get all this 'Gabriel' stuff out of her." Dean told him, shaking his head. "She goes off and says he talked to her and then clammed up."

Dean was frustrated and Sam knew that, but it wasn't because of what Grace had said entirely—it was because she had been obviously crying and Dean couldn't get her to stop. Sam had known that there was something more to Grace than she was letting on, but he hadn't expected so many angels to be involved. He knew right then and there that though he wanted to _so_ badly, catching up with Sara would have to wait—this had to do with the Apocalypse bearing down their throats.

**

Bobby and Castiel arrived at the diner moments after Sara and Sam had left, Jeremy nodding at them—he knew who they were. Castiel stood next to them and then sat down, Bobby wheeling over and smiling a little, glad to see his nephew in one piece. He had heard that Jeremy was going to settle down and that he wasn't involved in this hunting nonsense really, but he hadn't expected to feel so fatherly.

It wasn't that Bobby wasn't used to the feeling—it was that he seemed to be feeling fatherly so much more often these days. Dean, Sam, Grace—they all needed him and he knew it, but he felt like such a hassle to them…he felt like such a nuisance these days. There were so many times that he thought about just sticking that gun in his mouth and pulling the trigger, but at the same time his days were getting better.

He finally was starting to feel a little more whole—a little more like he had a purpose in life now that Grace was back. She counted on him, and she depended on him, and though it was painful to talk about, he got to reminisce about his wife with her and tell her things she wanted to know. Grace had missed out on having a father and a mother because of a demon, and Bobby wanted her to feel like she could know them.

Bobby swallowed as Jeremy looked Castiel over, trying to assess whether or not he could trust him. Jeremy knew that there were people he had trusted before that had turned out to be bad for him and bad for his family, and he didn't want to make the same mistake about Grace. He had already lost his mother tragically, and he didn't want _any_ harm to come to the cousin he loved like a sister—he didn't want harm to come to the only person who knew _all_ of his secrets.

"We have come about Grace." Castiel explained, not enjoying the silence at all. "It is very important that you tell us what you know."

Jeremy nodded at him. "I don't think it's fair to tell you _anything_ unless Grace is there to know too. I called her, and though she seemed a little pre-occupied, she wants me to come…meaning _you_ didn't tell her that you _told_ me to come."

"I…I didn't know what she could or couldn't handle yet." Bobby admitted, feeling like a terrible person for lying to his daughter _again_. "She came up against the demon that possessed her mother and she killed her."

"What?" Jeremy asked him, his eyes widening. "How is she _coping_ with that?!"

Bobby gave him a look. He _knew_ that Grace was having a rough time and that _anyone_ who knew how her mother had _really_ died would be worried about her, but it was all in Jeremy's _tone_. Jeremy _knew_ something that Bobby _didn't_, and Bobby wanted to know what it was, and he wanted to know it right then and there. What was going on that Bobby knew _nothing _about?

"What is going on here?" Bobby asked him.

Castiel looked at Bobby. "We should continue this conversation in a more private place."

"Castiel couldn't be more right." Thea explained, smiling at them from her red-headed body and tilting her head a little to the side. "Castiel…it's been a while."

"Thea." Castiel said nodding.

Unlike the other angels, Castiel didn't feel the need to hide from Thea—he didn't feel the distrust for her. She had never steered him wrong in the past and she had been running from Zachariah and Castiel trusted her—he trusted her with Grace…he trusted her with _the Winchesters_. Bobby noted the look on Castiel's face before he spoke to Thea, finding that it was hard to find the right words to say.

"You're a big part of this puzzle." Bobby told her.

She nodded at him. "I am indeed…and I need you all to understand something and understand it now—we need to protect Grace."

"That's what I'm trying to do." Bobby explained to her, giving her a look. "You mind telling me what you're doing here?"

"Jeremy has Karen's journals—he just doesn't have the whole story." Thea admitted, looking around the diner. "We should move to your house."

Bobby agreed with her and he wheeled his way out, Jeremy and Castiel following him, all four of them going with Thea to his house. Grace looked up, the only one in the living room right that moment and she swallowed. Sam and Sara were in the kitchen making some food and some tea, and Dean had gone out to the car to grab some things. Grace went for Jeremy first and they hugged each other close, Jeremy stroking her hair and she rested her face in his neck.

"I've missed you." Grace whispered and then her voice cracked. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you _everything_ before I left."

Jeremy nodded and pulled back. "What are you hiding, Gracie?"

"What is going on here, Grace?" Castiel asked her, and then he looked at Thea. "What is the master plan?"

"Too many questions." Thea answered, not looking at Dean as everyone else did as he came back in the front door. "The first thing we need to focus on is Gabriel…and his connection to Grace and Jeremy."

**Note: OMG I threw ANOTHER curveball at you! Two in fact if you count the Jeremy stuff. What about Jeremy? What is Grace hiding? Where is the third Horseman? Feedback is always appreciated!**


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